


Theon Greyjoy and the Goblet of Winter

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And definitely more sex, F/M, GoT meets Hogwarts, I'm basically re-writing the entire Goblet of Fire, M/M, Northerners are from Durmstrang, Ramsay is still a bastard, Targaryens are from Beauxbaton, There's more swearing in my version, Triwizard Tournament, eventually, fair warning, it's a slow burn ...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 166,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: ... or the time the Starks rocked up to Hogwarts to compete for the Triwizard Cup.With a booming thud, the doors to the Great Hall flew open. The chatter cut off abruptly and all eyes turned to the group of twelve who marched in. The Northerners from Durmstrang had arrived. They strode into the Hall like they owned it. Like they’d taken it. As they walked, the steel tips of their long wooden staves beat a tattoo on the flagstones.It was like a drumbeat. A war beat. They were coming down the aisle between the Gryffindor House table and the Hufflepuff table. They would pass right in front of Theon’s seat. He felt his blood thrilling just to look at them. Just to hear them. They were like warriors more than students. Each one had a dangerous, wild, look about them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theonsfavouritetoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/gifts).



> This was born out of a conversation with @theonsfavouritetoy about how everyone in GoT would fit into a Hogwarts House and then it kind of spiralled out of control. And she's written me heaps of Jondry so I kinda owe her some Greysnow ;)
> 
> I'm shit at making my stories short, so this may take a while. If you like it, please leave a comment (I love them ;) )
> 
> Or hit me up on Tumblr as squirrel-and-me. Drarry is running a close second for my otp if you want to rec me anything ...
> 
> May 18 update: this fic goes into Bolton's past and ongoing physical, sexual and psychological abuse of Theon. It's a side arc to the main plot but does go into a bit of detail at times. This is a general heads up to the story if that's not your thing.

With a booming thud, the doors to the Great Hall flew open. The chatter cut off abruptly and all eyes turned to the group of twelve who marched in. The Northerners from Durmstrang had arrived. They strode into the Hall like they owned it. Like they’d taken it. As they walked, the steel tips of their long wooden staves beat a tattoo on the flagstones. 

It was like a drumbeat. A war beat. They were coming down the aisle between the Gryffindor House table and the Hufflepuff table. They would pass right in front of Theon’s seat. He felt his blood thrilling just to look at them. Just to hear them. They were like warriors more than students. Each one had a dangerous, wild, look about them. They’d clearly already found the milder Southern climate of Hogwarts to their liking. They were all dressed in baggy black pants, with black leather boots climbing their calves. 

Each one of the eleven students wore a sleeveless leather jerkin and everywhere Theon looked were rippling muscles, gleaming by the light of the torches above. But what caught his eye the most were the tattoos. Everyone of them had thick, jagged black marks tattooed up their arms and onto their shoulders, echoed by more elaborate work around their eyes. As the stern-faced band got closer Theon gasped in surprise, the tattoos _moved_. They flowed and twined with a sinuous grace across the skin of their wearers.

The drumbeat of their march continued. Sped up. Suddenly a huge young man, who reminded Theon of nothing so much as a bear, dropped to one knee and a woman - red headed like him - leapt to his shoulders, then sprang off into a forward somersault. She flew high in the air, twisting and turning, before landing in a easy crouch, her staff out in front of her. There were marks around her eyes that gave her the sharp-nosed look of a fox. She looked wild - feral - and there were gasps and applause at her daring move from all around the Hall. 

Strong arms lifted staves and slammed them down, sparks shooting from their ends. Two more passed Theon’s seat, cold eyes looking out over the assembled students - these two reminded him of birds of prey somehow. Then another young man dropped to his knees just feet from where Theon sat, captivated. He had auburn curls, the bluest eyes Theon had ever seen and the face of a Prince. The tattoos around his eyes and running down his arms just enhanced his regal beauty. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and when he blew, a huge wolf made of flames roared from his hands, running through the air above the tables. The look of it echoed the man’s tattoos, wild and dangerous. Screams of delight accompanied the fiery apparition. The man climbed back to his feet, somehow catching Theon’s eye and winking at him cockily. Theon felt his heart thud loudly in his chest.

Behind the fire breather were another pair. A beautifully muscled man with deep blue eyes and short, dark hair. He radiated strength and his tattoos almost looked like the horns of a bull, curving up from his temples. He strode beside a short, slim girl with dark hair cut to her chin. She had the same wolf’s markings as the fire breather and Theon peered ahead at him to try and see if there was a resemblance. Then at the sound of a shouted challenge he wrenched his head back to the two nearest him. They faced off against each other with a bow similar to the beginning of a wizards duel and raised their staves. Then they were in movement. They were a blur of sparks and clangs as their staves smashed against each other and they darted and struck. Theon watched them in awe. Both wore a savage grin of joy. As he stared - as the whole school sat, captivated - the wolfish girl planted her staff on the ground, hard, and sprang into the air, vaulting above the head of the young man. Landing lightly she spun her staff and just caught him on the side of the ribs with a gentle tap. Theon got the impression she wanted to poke her tongue out at the bigger man. But then they reached the front of the hall they broke off, bowing again to each other and Theon saw them exchange small smiles. 

Then his eye was caught - and held - by the figures making up the end of the procession. There were three more students walking down the aisle, one made him think of a great cat, the other a stag, the third a vicious weasel.

But what caught his attention were the two at the back of the procession. Striding in beside what must be their headmaster Mance Rayder, a crow-faced man in black leather and furs - was a broodingly handsome man with steel grey eyes and the most touchable black curls Theon had ever seen in his life. He looked around the Hall with a sullen gaze, as if he’d seen much more to be impressed with in his time. Theon was riveted as he watched this new entrant to the Hall. Whispering broke out all around the room as people pointed and stared.

Theon recognised him immediately, even without his distinctive wolf tattoos - it was the international Quidditch star who was being hailed as the youngest of his generation. ‘Snow,’ Theon breathed as the man - the God in human flesh - passed his table. Snow’s eyes flicked to his for a second as though he’d somehow - impossibly - heard the word above the tumult of the Hall. Theon felt sparks shoot inside his chest as their eyes met. Then Snow raked his gaze down Theon’s chest and body. Theon felt heat spear through him but before he could act - before he could do Gods knew what in a hall full of watching students, Snow had moved on and all Theon could see were his broad, muscled shoulders as he swaggered down to join his school. 

He was in a daze when the next group entered the Hall, lost in thoughts of piercing grey eyes and hard-muscled bodies. It wasn’t until the whispering started up again that he turned his gaze to the back of the Hall. This procession was smaller, but no less magnificent. Six students walked - no glided - would be a better word, into the Hall. They wore floating white robes, sleeveless and belted at the waist. Each had long silver hair and - Theon realised with a start - violet eyes. There was something uncanny about the similarity between them all. He wondered if they were somehow related. There were five young men and one woman. The men were grouped loosely in a semi-circle around the woman. She - Theon gasped and heard it mirrored throughout the Hall as people saw - she had a young dragon perched on her shoulder. It looked around the Hall and _hissed_ at its inhabitants. The violet-eyed woman looked up at it with a smile, reaching up to pet it softly. It seemed to preen under her touch. Then she whispered something to it and it tilted its head skywards and let out a jet of flame that radiated pure, punishing heat. There were cries of alarm. Theon was still watching the group of six and saw a small, calculating smile mirrored on each face in turn. Their headmistress behind them - a woman dressed all in red, smiled too, and it was a smile that gave Theon a chill.

‘Beauxbaton,’ he heard whispers around him. The procession made its way to the front of the Hall, all eyes glued to the stunningly beautiful figures in it. When they reached the front, the Headmaster stood and spoke.

‘Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,’ Lord Tywin’s voice was cool and calculating. There was a smile on his face, but it did not quite reach his eyes as he left his seat to shake hands with the other heads of schools. ‘Madame Melisandre, I hope the journey from Valyria did not throw up any unforeseen challenges?’  
‘None unforseen,’ she returned in a melodious, measured voice. Lord Tywin smiled tightly and turned to the other head.  
‘Mance,’ he said curtly.  
‘Lannister,’ the dark haired man said in return. They held gazes a moment longer, and tension seemed to flow between them. But then it was broken as Lord Tywin turned back to the Hall with a clap.  
‘As you have no doubt already all heard, the Triwizard Tournament will be returning to Hogwarts this year. We have received delegations from Durmstrang,’ he indicated the fierce, tattooed Northerners, ‘and from Beauxbaton,’ he indicated the silver-haired, no less fierce looking group to their right.  
‘They, along with students of age from Hogwarts, will have the right to cast their names into the Goblet of Winter to seek the right to represent the school in this hallowed tournament.’  
As he spoke a huge stone goblet appeared in front of the teacher’s table. It looked ancient and worn and from it burst cold, blue flames. Excited whispering broke out all along the Hall again. Lord Tywin silenced it with a look.  
‘In the meantime, please make the students from the other schools welcome. This tournament is about magical cooperation as much as it is about winning.’ Theon snorted to himself. As if the old lion wouldn’t be doing everything in his power to make sure there was a Hogwarts champion.

Then his eyes widened as the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton’s turned and headed for the long House tables. The Beauxbaton delegation all took up a position at the head of the Ravenclaw table. The Durmstrang team split themselves, with half going to the Slytherin table - Theon noticed the weasel-faced man among them, and the other half, including Snow, the fire breather, the two redheads and the two staff fighters, heading to Gryffindor table. Theon almost forgot to breathe as they came closer, seating themselves a few seats down from him. He hunched in on himself, sneaking glances at them as he pretended to be concentrating on the food that had appeared in front of him.

The wolf-faced fire breather was leaning into Snow, murmuring something in his ear that had Snow scowling harder. His tattoos began to move faster across his skin, as though they were reflecting his agitation.  
‘Leave it Robb,’ Snow snapped and Theon filed the name away. The fire breather - Robb - raised his hands in surrender and exchanged a look with the slim, dark haired girl who’d sat opposite him. Theon sneaked glances at all three and began to see a resemblance. He had a vague memory of reading something about Snow’s half-siblings. If that was Robb then the young woman must be -  
‘Arry, pass me more potatoes will you,’ the bull-faced man said with a wide smile, his plate already piled high. Arry - Arya, Theon remembered - snorted at him.  
‘Gendry, I swear, if you didn’t work out all day long you’d be as big as Hot Pie by now.’ The other man just grinned back at her, mouth full.

Theon watched them laughing and joking with each other and the Gryffindors around them throughout the meal. When he finally tore his gaze away from Snow, who hadn’t joined in the merriment, his eye was caught by a dark, malicious look from across the Hall. He didn’t even need to think to know who was staring at him from the Slytherin table so unerringly through the mass of shifting students. He met the dark, snake-like gaze of Ramsay Bolton for just a second before he shivered and turned away.

That night, in his four poster bed in Gryffindor tower, Theon lay awake for a long time. He didn’t sleep well at the best of times, but it was usually anxiety and nightmares that had him tossing and turning. Tonight … tonight gleaming bodies, swirling tattoos and brooding grey eyes filled his thoughts. Finally with a groan of frustration he succumbed. His curtains were already closed tight and he could hear the sounds of sleep from his roommates. He whispered the _muffliato_ charm and then slipped one hand down into his pants and gripped his achingly hard cock. He didn’t bother with finesse, he just stripped his release from himself hard and fast, biting down on his lip as he closed his eyes and imagined hard, strong arms pinning him down, that soft mouth covering his, licking into his …

When he came with an aching cry, it was Jon Snow’s name on his lips, and he was glad of the charm. That was his secret shame to bear. No one else need know.

That night he slept better than he had in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

When Theon walked into Transfiguration the next morning, his normal desk at the back of the room was vacant. He sat there, head down, doing some last minute cramming on the reading Professor Tyrell had left them over the summer break. He could never study properly at home, and with the excitement of yesterday’s arrivals, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything last night. He couldn’t afford to get behind in his classes before he'd even started the year. After his hand had been injured - maimed, he thought darkly to himself - and he hadn’t been able to hold a broomstick anymore, his grades were all that was left for him. Heaven forbid Balon Greyjoy’s only remaining son did not excel.

He didn’t look up from his book as other students moved around him and it wasn’t until someone leaned over to ask him in a low voice if he had a spare quill that he was jolted out of his reading. He looked up into the blue eyes and wolf-marked face of _Robb Stark_. He felt his mouth drop open and he glanced around. The desks around him that were usually left empty by his classmates were full. He felt his heart thud in his chest as he realised Snow was slumped in the seat front of him, the fingers on one hand tapping as he looked to the front of the room. To his other side was the bull-faced man - Gendry. And beside him, the flame-haired woman with the fox markings. She was scribbling aimlessly on a sheet of parchment, looking out the window.

‘A quill?’ the man next to him - Robb - asked again, a hint of a smile on his face now.  
‘Ah - yeah - sure,’ Theon said, jerking his thoughts back to the present and rummaging in the bag at his feet. He pulled out a battered feather and handed it to Robb, who winked at him, then straightened up as Professor Tyrell entered the room.

‘Silence,’ she said in her waspish voice, lips pursed. The rustling and muttering stopped immediately. Even the flame-haired woman looked across.  
‘As you will have all noticed, we have some of the sixth year students for Durmstrang joining us for lessons during their time here.’ She indicated the back of the room and everyone turned to look at the four newcomers. Theon shrank lower in his seat. He could see Ramsey’s eyes honing in on him from his position at the front of the room, and he didn’t like the look in them.  
‘I am Lady Olenna Tyrell,’ she said to them, ‘and you are?’  
‘Robb Stark,’ said Robb first, his voice ringing out.  
‘Gendry Waters,’ Gendry said with an easy smile.  
‘Ygritte of the Free Folk,’ said the flame haired girl.  
The last to answer was Jon Snow, and he only did so because Professor Tyrell cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Jon Snow,’ he muttered. Theon didn’t miss the way the eyes of half the class - guys and girls alike - lingered on Snow.

‘Right,’ Tyrell said decisively. ‘This year, as you know, we will be expecting much more of you …’  
Despite himself, Theon lost track of what she was saying. He was acutely aware of the newcomers sitting around him, of every little twitch that Snow made in the seat in front of him. He hadn’t gone down to breakfast - he never did these days, so he’d - not forgotten - but not thought about what the new students would be doing during their time at Hogwarts. With a start he realised that these four must be accompanying the Gryffindors to every lesson. He felt a tingle of excitement, then dread, run through him as he imagined spending his days around Snow, every class in proximity to him. 

When the noise and movement started, he was jolted out of his thoughts. He looked around to see everyone bringing their wands out and a canary sitting on the table in front of him, cocking its head to one side with an inquisitive gaze.  
‘Shit,’ he muttered and he heard a snort from Robb beside him. The other man glanced over.  
‘You ever transformed a canary into a butterbeer?’ Robb asked him, and Theon looked down at the bird with mild panic.  
‘Are you supposed to be able to drink it?’ he asked.  
Robb sniggered, ‘I prefer fire whisky myself.’  
Theon smiled, thinking of the drink with its beautiful burn and the haze of numbness it left behind. He wracked his brains for something to say, to keep the conversation going.  
‘Where’s your sister?’  
Robb looked surprised, ‘Arya? She’s only fourth year. She shouldn’t even have been allowed to come on this trip but you try telling Arya no when she wants something.’ From in front of them he heard a snort of laughter coming from Snow, who seemed to be staring at his bird with boredom. Theon felt a thrill at the thought that Snow was listening to their conversation, and that he was amused by it.  
‘And the others?’ Theon asked, not really caring, the only ones he was interested in were in this room.  
‘Tormund’s seventh year,’ Robb replied. Theon looked confused and Robb elaborated, ‘Huge bear of a guy.’ Theon’s face cleared and he nodded. Robb continued, ‘So are Orell and Styr - the guy who makes you think of an eagle and a the bald one who looks like he could rip your face off?’ Theon nodded again. ‘Rast - the ferret -‘ another snigger from Jon, ‘and Torrhen and Tanner are all sixth years like us, but they’re with your other House, what is it? Hufflepuff?’  
Theon nodded again, wishing he could think of something witty to say.

At that moment Professor Tyrell made her way to the back of the room, ‘You will be attempting to drink a bird, Mr Greyjoy?’ she asked, looking down her nose at him. Theon flushed at the sniggers that broke out around the room. He didn’t need to look up to see Bolton’s eyes boring into him. He _hated_ the classes he had to spend with the Slytherins - those who’d used to be his friends ... before. Professor Tyrell made an impatient noise when he hadn’t answered her.  
‘No, Professor,’ he muttered.  
‘Perhaps less chatting and more spellwork then, hmm?’  
‘Yes, Professor,’ he said quietly, picking up his wand.  
The big man on his other side leaned across when she’d turned her back. He whispered the spell and demonstrated the movement to him with a smile. Theon felt some of the anxiety in his chest ease and he smiled back. Maybe - maybe with these Durmstrang students he could have a fresh start. Maybe someone who didn’t know his full, humiliating history at Hogwarts would want to be around him.

With that thought in mind, he pointed his wand at his bird and got to work.


	3. Chapter 3

As they were packing up from the Transfiguration lesson - Theon had only managed to make his canary drip a yellowish liquid all over his desk - Robb Stark turned to him again.   
‘I think we have Magical Creatures or something next. Can you show us where it is?’  
Theon smiled up at him and stood. ‘Sure. It’s one of my favourite classes.’  
The five of them walked together out of the room and through the corridors, drawing stares everywhere they went. Theon couldn’t help the little thrill of happiness - and if he was honest, smugness - that ran through him as he walked with the Durmstang students. They cut imposing figures in the corridor - evidently their school uniform consisted of the same baggy black pants and leather boots they’d worn last night and over that a black tunic with no sleeves, high at the neck and edged in silver, with leather buckles running up the front of it. It was cut in harsh angles and hung to mid thigh. Glancing at them, Theon assumed they usually wore more layers underneath it, but at Hogwarts, they were all walking around with arms bared and tattoos on display. It made an imposing image compared to the Hogwarts uniform.

Theon watched heads turn as they passed. It had been a long time since he’d drawn anyone’s eyes in the corridors … a long time since he’d wanted to.

They made their way over the grounds to the small hut that was smoking cheerfully in the distance. Standing out the front of it was a short, weather-beaten man with a grizzled beard. When he saw the approaching students his face split into a wide, welcoming grin.  
He strode forward to clasp Theon in a quick hug.   
‘Theon, lad. Good te see you again. How was yer Summer?’  
‘Good to see you too Davos,’ Theon smiled back. ‘My summer was about the same as it always is.’ His smile changed to a brief grimace and understanding flooded Davos’ face. Then Theon turned to the four standing behind him.  
‘Everyone this is Professor Seaworth -‘  
Davos cut him off, extending a hand - minus the ends of several fingers - to each of them in turn. ‘Call me Davos, can’t abide all that formal claptrap,’ he said as he was introduced and shook hands.

He noticed Gendry looking at his shortened fingers curiously and he wiggled his hand with a grin. ‘Blast-ended skrewt,’ he said with a grimace. ‘That’ll teach me to get too friendly with them. Was my favourite beast too - named it Stannis after Professor Baratheon who teaches History of Magic here. Bloody two-faced animal.’

Then he broke off as more students began wandering down over the lawn and he greeted each in turn. Last to arrive were Bolton and his cronies - Myranda and Locke. The smile that Davos turned to them was tight and forced and it was returned with a sneer by Ramsay, who looked around as though he would rather be anywhere else.

‘Right, right,’ said Davos cheerfully, turning away from Bolton, ‘Gather round.’ There was a small amount of shuffling forward and then he continued. ‘Las year I brought you a lot of creatures out of the Forest - this year, we’re going te focus on the Lake.’  
Theon felt his heart beat faster - he’d always felt drawn to the Lake. He found the great body of water soothing. It reminded him of the Islands - the good parts, not the bad. He moved forward a bit more to catch everything Davos was saying.  
‘Lord Tywin has agreed te lend us the boats we use te ferry the first years in at the start of Year. If ye could all make yer way over to the edge of the Lake, you’ll see them there. Three to a boat now, mind no one falls in.’

There was a lot of shuffling as people approached the boats and Theon edged closer to Jon Snow, hoping he might manage to get in with him, but Robb was way ahead of him. He pushed his brother in a boat and seemed to grab the nearest person he could find who wasn’t ogling Jon - Gilly. She seemed gobsmacked at being chosen to join anyone’s group, and went bright red, biting her lip and staring down at the ground.

Theon somehow ended up in a boat with Gendry and Ygritte - the former making a comment about how he hoped they didn’t have to row to wherever they were going, the latter looking over the side with something that looked like apprehension. Theon screwed up his courage and spoke to the fierce looking young woman.  
‘Are you okay?’ he asked her quietly.  
She looked across at him, eyes fiery for a moment, then she saw the honest concern in his face and muttered quietly, ‘Can’t swim.’  
Theon smiled at her and leaned in, ‘That’s okay, I basically grew up in the water. If anything happens I’ll be able to get you back to shore no problems.’  
She arched an eyebrow at him, but seemed to relax slightly at his words.

When they were all seated Davos waved his wand and the boats set off, bobbing their way across the still Lake in the wake of his, like a trail of little ducklings after their mother. As they moved Davos started to explain about the Grindylows - dark magical water demons that inhabited the weed beds at the bottom of the Lake. At the mention of dark magic, Ygritte perked up considerably, looking over the side with interest. Theon saw several Hogwarts students - who were more used to Davos’ classes - exchange nervous glances and move closer to the middle of their boats.

When they were a fair way out from shore Davos seemed to break the propulsion charm and all the boats drifted to a halt around him.  
‘Now,’ he said, ‘The Grindylows usually prefer te remain hidden in the dark. They don’t like to come to the surface, ye see, preferring to hunt in the depths. But that’s no good to us, is it. So I’ve got,’ he grunted as he heaved a sack out of the bottom of the boat. It was dripping something that looked suspiciously like … blood.

Davos stood, his boat rocking slightly under the change of weight, ‘I’ve got a nice big hunk o’ meat for them here. Whale, ye see. Not something they’d normally find in the Lake. Should be a bit of a treat for em. Should bring a few curious ones to the surface anyway.’ With that he upended the bag, spilling fish and blood and guts into the water. Some students cried out their disgust but Davos ignored them.  
‘Right, one las’ thing. It’s not a great idea to be leaning over the side, so I’m going to,’ with a flick of his wand the boats suddenly disappeared. There were screams all around and Theon saw Ygritte tense, though she didn’t cry out.  
‘They’re still there,’ Davos said with a snort, ‘Jus see-through for a bit so you can see exactly what’s happening. Oh look, here come a few now.’ He pointed and Theon followed his gaze.

Indeed, Grindylows were making their way to the surface. Theon stared in fascination. They were strange creatures, tentacled legs propelled them through the water, but they also had a torso, arms, and an unmistakable face, dark eyes glittering maliciously. Theon wondered if the spell was working both ways and if the Grindylows could see back up into the boats as well. That was a disturbing thought. Without warning there was a scuffle in the water as three or four of the creatures fastened on to the chunk of meat, teeth flashing. Then others joined and suddenly the water was a broiling blur of tentacles and claws and teeth as they turned on each other, fighting for the huge chunk of blubbery meat.  
‘Ah,’ said Davos, with a slight frown. ‘P’raps I should have brought a bit more.’

Theon was engrossed in watching the creatures. A few had broken off with prizes now and darted a distance away to consume them, tentacles waving slowly back and forth in the water. His fingers itched for a quill so he could sketch their sinuous movements. 

‘You’re really into them, aren’t you?’ came a voice from beside him and Theon broke off his observation to look up into Gendry’s face. He flushed slightly, thinking the other man might be pointing out how weird it was to be into creepy water demons. But Gendry just smiled, and his face was so open and honest that Theon couldn’t believe he was being set up.  
‘I like water creatures,’ he said, gaze returning to watch the Grindylows fighting over the meat. ‘There’s just something … relaxing … about them.’  
Gendry made a sound of agreement. ‘I tend to get lost in the things I’m into too,’ he said and Theon jerked his eyes back to Gendry, so he could follow the conversation. He didn’t have enough friends - any friends really - that he could afford to be rude to someone new.  
‘What are you into?’ he asked.  
‘Well, you’ll probably think this is a bit weird,’ Gendry said, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. ‘But I like making things out of metal. The muggle way. There’s just something about the fire and the hammers and making something with your hands and not your wand, you know?’ Theon nodded slowly. He didn’t know exactly what Gendry meant, but he could imagine.  
‘And besides,’ Gendry went on, ‘My mum was muggle born so it’s not so strange that I should do a few things without magic, is it?’ He spoke like this was a line he’d delivered to many people, with varying degrees of success.

Theon opened his mouth to agree, but before he could speak, both Gendry and Ygritte stood abruptly, causing their small boat to rock. As he glanced up in shock, Theon saw a Grindylow heading straight for him, hurtling through the air. The other two didn’t even seem to think before acting. They each grabbed one of its arms and jerked it to a halt, teeth gnashing right in front of his face, then they flung it backwards out over the water, where it re-entered with a splash.

Theon was still sitting stock still, eyes wide, heart pounding in shock. It had happened so quickly that Davos didn’t seem to have noticed anything was wrong. He was peering happily into the water where the Grindylows were still fighting.

Then a cruel, taunting voice came from the boat slowly drifting towards theirs. ‘Thought you might want a new boyfriend. We all know no one around here would touch you … Reek.’ The last word was a hiss of malicious delight. Theon realised with a shock that Ramsey had levitated the Grindylow and thrown it at him. If it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of the two in the boat with him … then he realised those two had heard the words Bolton had said to him and he burned with shame, curling in on himself, hunching his shoulders. He didn’t see the look Gendry and Ygritte shared over his bowed head, or the glares they sent at Bolton.

When the lesson was over and they’d headed back to shore, Davos asked Theon to stay and share lunch with him. Happy for any excuse to avoid the Great Hall and the masses of students within, Theon agreed, turning away from the departing students and making his way into Davos’ cabin without a goodbye. It was only a matter of time before they heard all about him, so what was the point of kidding himself that he could start fresh.

By the time he’d had a hot cup of tea and a few sandwiches, and Davos had told him a few stories of his travels during the summer break, Theon was feeling a lot better … or at least a lot more like his normal self. He said goodbye to Davos and headed back up towards the castle, conscious that he didn’t want to be late for double potions with Professor Qyburn. The man hated him enough as it was, the creepy old git.

He wasn’t paying attention as he rounded the corner of the school, that one corner that was out of sight of all the windows. But as soon as a figure stepped out of the shadows, he knew he’d fucked up. Big time.  
‘Why hello, pet. Did you miss me this summer?’ Ramsey Bolton asked him with a cold, cruel smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Theon came back to consciousness with a moan of pain. He lay quietly for a moment, eyes still closed, fighting against the urge to be violently sick. He knew - from experience - that heaving his guts up now was only going to make everything hurt more. 

The familiar sounds, smells and sensations told him he was in the Hospital Wing, tucked up in bed. He heaved a sigh of relief. It was over ... for now. He deliberately pushed his thoughts away from the things Bolton had said - had done. He’d survived it last year. He could survive it this year.

A noise caught his attention and he cracked his eyes open, looking around. He could hear voices floating down from the entrance of the Hospital Wing. With a small smile that twinged the ache in his jaw, he recognised Robb’s voice.  
‘Did you _see_ the Healer that came to collect him. She was hot! H. O. T. T. Hot!’  
Next moment, Madam Maegyr’s voice drifted down to him as well. ‘Can I help you boys?’  
‘Yes, ah yeah. We’re here to see Greyjoy. Ah -‘  
‘Theon.’ He heard Gendry hiss at Robb and then a snort that he remembered well from that morning. Snow was there as well. Theon shifted, trying to lever himself into a less pathetic position, but everything ached.  
‘Theon,’ Robb went on, obviously trying to sound smooth. ‘We’re good friends of his.’  
‘Are you now?’ the Healer replied, and even Theon at this distance could hear the amusement in her voice. ‘That’s quite an achievement since I believe the boat from Durmstrang arrived … last night?’  
There was an embarrassed cough and then Robb went on, ‘Yeah … well, he’s very likeable, our Theon.’  
Despite knowing visiting him was all a ploy to allow Robb to see Madam Maegyr, Theon felt a small glow of happiness at Robb’s words.

Robb’s winning smile must have convinced the Healer because next minute she’d told them to wait at the door and she’d come over to stand by his bed. When she looked down at him, he could see sorrow in her eyes, but she banished that as she said, ‘Friends of yours?’ And tilted her head towards the door.  
Theon craned his neck to see Robb peering around the door at them and nodded with another small grin. ‘Yeah, they are.’  
‘Okay then, Theon, I’ll let them in. Maybe they’ll be better friends to you than others have been in the past.’ Her look was meaningful as it travelled down his body and Theon suddenly couldn’t meet her eyes. He’s spent a lot of time here last year - a lot of time talking with the Healer and he knew she had his best interests at heart - he also knew how frustrated it made her that he wouldn’t tell her exactly what was going on. 

With a last look at him and a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, Madam Maegyr beckoned to Robb and the three young men came in.  
Robb, Gendry and Snow gathered around his bed, peering down at him as the Healer walked away with an admonition not to tire him out. 

From the concern in their eyes - all three pairs - Theon knew he must look like shit.  
‘Are you okay?’ Robb asked, and there was genuine worry in his voice.  
Theon nodded, forcing a smile to his face. It felt more like a grimace. ‘Sure. Fine. Thanks - ah, thanks for coming by.’  
Robb and Gendry frowned down at him. Snow ... his gaze was intense, fixed on Theon’s face as if cataloguing every bruise. 

‘That guy, the one we found standing over you, who is he?’ Robb asked. Theon’s eyes jerked to meet his and his first response was panic. No - no it can’t have happened again. Please, Gods, no.  
‘What do you mean - found - wh- what happened? How - how was I when you found me?’  
Robb looked at him with concern and Theon thinks he needs to calm himself but he can’t. All he can think about is last time. Last time Ram set him up - in front of the whole school. When he opened his eyes to see - 

‘You were lying on the ground, unconscious and he had his wand out. When we came up to him he said he was trying to help you. That you’d fallen or some bullshit.’  
Gendry cut in, ‘He looked suss as. Plus I’m pretty sure he was the same guy that threw the water demon at your head. Jon told him if he didn’t back the fuck up he’d rip his throat out ... then he was gone.’

Theon’s eyes jerked to Snow’s, but the other man was looking down at his hands, clasped in front of him, looking for all the world like he couldn’t even hear the conversation. 

The other two were staring at him - waiting for his response. Suddenly Theon wanted to tell them - wanted to talk like he hadn’t wanted to since that very first time. But he opened his mouth and the words stuck in his throat. His father sneered down at him. _Ironborn don’t snivel and cry. We do to others a thousand times worse than they have done to us._

‘I - I don’t know what happened. Maybe I did fall. Some - sometimes I do ... clumsy you know...’ he tried for a shrug but winced with the pain it brought. His lie was a weak one and he could tell they all saw through it, but no one pushed him. 

Instead they sat by his bed a while and made small talk about the Potions lesson the others had all been to.  
‘That guy gives me the creeps,’ Gendry shuddered. ‘When he was talking about the Draught of Living Death, he looked like he was about to pop a boner.’  
Theon laughed at that, then winced and clutched his ribs. 

The Healer must have been watching them because she came over soon after and informed them all that Theon needed more rest.  
On their way out the door, Robb waved the others on and drew Madam Maegyr off to one side. Theon assumed he wanted to chat the young Healer up, but then he heard his name said quietly. He closed his eyes as though sleeping and concentrated on what the other two were saying. 

‘What happened to him?’ Robb asked in a low voice.  
‘I really can’t share information like that about a student,’ the Healer replied.  
‘Please, Miss -?’  
‘Maegyr, Talisa Maegyr.’  
‘Please, Talisa,’ Theon could hear the hint of flirting warmth in Robb’s voice, but also the legitimate concern. It seemed the Healer heard it too because after a moment she responded.  
‘He’s been cursed. Cruciatus, if I’m not mistaken. I’ve seen its after-effects before.’  
‘Cruciatus!’ Robb exclaimed loudly and Madam Maegyr shushed him. He went on in a quieter voice. ‘Isn’t that illegal here? It certainly is in the North.’  
‘Indeed,’ the Healer replied. ‘And if I could get him to confirm that was what had happened I would be able to do something about it. But the stubborn fool insists on suffering in silence.’ This was said with affection, though he could hear the frustration in her tone. 

Theon felt bad. He hadn’t realised she knew so much about what he’d been subjected to ... about this part of it.  
‘Will he be okay?’ Robb was asking now.  
‘He’ll be fine. There’s no long term damage and he’s a tough one.’  
‘Are you sure, though? The Cruciatius. Fuck.’  
‘He recovered fine every time he came in looking like this last year.’ The last was said with anger and Theon shivered, though he knew it wasn’t directed at him.  
Silence greeted that pronouncement and Theon wondered if they two of them were looking over at him.  
Finally Robb spoke again and his voice was hard. ‘Right. Well. Shit like this doesn’t stand where I’m from and I’m not going to bloody let it stand while I’m here.’  
There was no response from the Healer and after a moment Theon heard angry steps stalking from the room. 

Madam Maegyr made her way over to Theon’s bed and after a moment she laid her hand on his forehead, stroking his hair back off his face. It was a tender touch. A mother’s touch. Theon felt tears prick behind his eyelids, both at Robb’s words and at the un-asked-for comfort. But he didn’t let them fall. Didn’t give any indication he was aware of her.


	5. Chapter 5

Theon kept a low profile the next few days. Luckily most of his classes with the Slytherins this year were on a Monday and he’d become an expert at finding the quiet corridors and back ways to classes last year. He had most meals in the Gryffindor common room - the one place he knew Bolton couldn’t enter. When Winky the house elf arrived with his food each night he thanked again and again the happenstance that had led him to run into the elf last year, crying one night in a corner. He’d felt as bad and she’d looked and dealing with someone else’s problems had seemed vastly preferable to facing his own. They’d become - not friends - but Theon enjoyed the times Winky kept him company in the deserted Common Room. 

He couldn’t avoid the Durmstrang students however. He had every class with them, and Robb and Gendry particularly, had kept making friendly overtures. He returned them - tentatively - but as soon as class was over, made his excuses and escaped back to the safety of his tower. Bolton had made it clear the other day what would happen to people Theon got too close to.

——

On Thursday, they started the day with double Herbolgy. Theon didn’t mind the subject, Professor Mormont was usually nice to him and they had it with the Ravenclaws. He slipped into the greenhouse and saw the Durmstrang students hadn’t arrived yet. His usual spot down the end of the row was taken. He saw the silver heads of three of the Beauxbaton students. He glanced around for a spare seat and Samwell Tarley looked up with a wave.  
‘Theon, hello.’ Theon gave him a small smile and walked over, dropping to a seat at his otherwise empty bench. Tarley might be a nerd, but at least he was nice to Theon when he saw him.  
_Oh father_ Theon thought sardonically, _if only you could see me now._  
‘Have you met the Beauxbaton students?’ Tarley asked in a whisper, indicating them with a nod of his head. Theon thought this was a bit superfluous, they were impossible to miss, with their almost otherworldly beauty and their haughty expressions.  
Theon shook his head. ‘No, my first class with them is today.’  
Tarley nodded, and continued in a whisper. ‘That’s Daenerys. She’s incredibly smart. She speaks like five languages and she’s travelled all over the world. That,’ he indicated the young man on her left who was looking around the greenhouse with a sneer of distaste, ‘is her twin brother Viserys. He’s … not so nice. And the other one is her cousin, Aegon. He’s ok. But it’s a bit creepy how they all look the same isn’t it.’  
At those words, three pairs of violet eyes turned to stare to the two of them, sitting on their bench and Tarley gulped and looked down, hunching his shoulders. Theon returned their gaze for just a moment but then his attention was caught as Professor Mormont strode into the greenhouse.

‘Right, class, settle down. Now -,’ he cast his eyes around the room and he stopped short when he looked at the Beauxbaton students, all sitting down the end of the greenhouse. He strode down the row to them and paused, looking at each in turn, gaze lingering on Daenerys.  
‘Hello, welcome to Hogwarts, and to my herbology class,’ he gave a sort of half bow, as if deferring to her and Theon eyed him sideways. The young silver haired woman merely smiled and inclined her head slightly. Professor Mormont straightened up and seemed to come back to himself. He cleared his throat and moved back to the front of the room, glancing down at the Beauxbaton students occasionally as he spoke. ’So, right, lots to do this term. Lots to do. We’re going to start by exploring the properties of some of the plants that are commonly used for healing.’ His eyes flicked briefly to Theon as he said this and Theon looked down at the table, not wanting to draw attention.

‘Can anyone tell me about the Aloenium?’ He indicated the plant on the table in front of him. It was green and spiky, with plump leaves, but it seemed to be shrinking away from the people around it, the noise and the light. As Theon watched it shivered, drawing in on itself.

The silver-haired woman put her hand up and Professor Mormont smiled as he indicated she should answer. Her voice, when she spoke was refined and had a lovely lilt about it that Theon couldn’t place.  
‘The Aloenium is best known for -‘

At that moment the door burst open and Robb, Gendry, Ygritte and Snow came in, the first three talking and laughing, heads together, Snow trailing behind. They stopped abruptly as Professor Mormont stepped in front of them, an annoyed expression on his face, which was quite out of character.  
‘You’re late. Sit there,’ he pointed at the empty seats on the bench Tarley was sharing with Theon. The four of them hurried to the indicated seats, Snow getting shoved in beside Theon by his brother. As the other man dropped into his seat, his shoulder and thigh brushed against Theon briefly and he felt a tingle of heat run through him at the contact. Snow glanced across at him and their eyes met briefly before Theon looked away, biting his lip. He had to focus.

Professor Mormont was speaking again, ‘Sorry, Miss -?’  
‘Daenerys Targaryen, Ser. But I go by the name Khaleesi as well. It means Queen.’ There are a few sniggers around the room at these words, but Professor Mormont seemed oblivious.  
‘Yes, Khaleesi, please do continue.’  
That enigmatic smile was back as the young woman went on. ‘The Aloenium is best know for its incredible ability to treat burns. The worst of burns - things that magic can’t repair. But it’s called Aloenium because it prefers to live in wild, quiet places where nothing and no one can disturb it.’

Professor Mormont beams at her. ‘Perfect answer Khaleesi, ten points for - ah well, wonderful answer nonetheless. So, class, we’re going to discuss today how we can charm an Aloenium to come out of hiding and agree to release some of its aloe to us. I have one plant between two, a shipment came in recently for … well never mind what for. Anyway one between two please.’

With a start Theon realised that since he was sitting on the end of the bench and Snow was sitting next to him, they would be partnering. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks and fought it back, trying to think of anything except the man sitting next to him who was eyeing the plant on the table with disinterest.  
Professor Mormont was explaining how they needed to be friendly to the plant, to make it feel safe. Theon stole a glance at the man sitting next to him, glowering down at the plant on the table. His tattoos were swirling again, jagged and dark. His seemed to do that so much more than the others did. A further glance confirmed that the other three - Gendry working with Tarley and Robb and Ygritte together had marks that undulated smoothly and calmly across their skin.

He realised he’d been staring when Snow grunted beside him, ‘So, make friends with it.’  
Theon looked at him and then at the plant, blurting out the first thing that came into his mind, ‘I’m not great at making friends.’ Then he wanted to kick himself. _Way to sound like a pathetic loser._ To his surprise, Jon smirked and looked back at the plant again with surly dislike.  
‘Well I hope no one’s getting burned then, because we have no hope of getting the aloe out.’ Theon turned to him.  
‘You’re kidding me. You can charm it, surely. You must have loads of friends, you must -‘ but his voice trailed off as the glower was turned to him.  
‘Do I look like I’m good at making friends? Have I done _anything_ to give you that impression?’  
Theon gaped at him, thinking back over all the interactions he’d had with Snow in the past few days. In every one, the man had tried to step into the background, avoid the people around him, dodge conversations.  
‘Ah, well I just assumed, because you’re famous …’  
Snow snorted, ‘I can fly a broom and catch a tiny ball. Anyone who wants to be friends with me because of that isn’t worth knowing.’  
At that he folded his arms and leaned back in his seat, returning to staring at the plant in front of them with dislike.

Despite Theon’s best efforts for the rest of the class, neither Snow, nor the plant opened up to him.

————

After class Robb grabbed Theon by the arm. ‘Come on. We’re all going to put our names in the Goblet as challengers.’ He paused and looked Theon up and down.  
‘You’d be of age, wouldn’t you? Are you entering?’  
Theon snorted, putting the strange lesson and his conversation with Snow out of his mind. He could think about that later. ‘Yes. And no. Gods no. The last thing I want is to be risking my life fighting against the likes of you lot,’ he waved his hand in a gesture that indicated the impressive looking Durmstrangs in front of him, the departing Beauxbatons and the school in general.  
‘No, I’m definitely not entering ... but I’ll come and watch you do it.’ Despite himself and his general desire to avoid the student population, he was intrigued by the process. 

They made their way back into the school, across the grounds and into the entrance. Students were streaming in from everywhere to have lunch in the great Hall. A fair few were grouping around the stone Goblet in the centre of the entrance, its icy blue flames flickering coldly. It seemed a lot of challengers had decided to place their name. As he watched, each of the Beauxbaton students stepped across the age line, one by one, to drop a parchment bearing their name into the icy fire. Their faces were impassive, regal, and there was a sense of overwhelming confidence and entitlement from each of them. Every time a parchment was dropped in, the blue fire roared higher for a moment and a swirl of snowflakes was released into the air.

Next the Durmstrangs moved across the line one by one. The weasel-faced-man, Rast, pushed his way to the front, dropping his paper in the goblet with a grin of triumph as the fire roared.  
‘Git,’ Gendry muttered beside Theon. The others moved forward one by one. Snow’s face showing nothing as the Goblet accepted him, but Robb, Ygritte, Gendry and Tormund looked happy. Some of the others - Styr and Orell - just looked coldly determined. Finally the last of them stepped back over the age line and a lithe young woman approached. She was dressed in Durmstrang robes that were unbuttoned at the throat, looking too tight across the chest. As she approached, she swayed her hips with the air of someone only just having hit puberty and still getting used to the changes it brought.

Theon’s eyes widened when he realised who was approaching, at the same time as Robb and Snow both yelled out, ‘Arya, stop -‘ but their sister darted through their fingers with a smirk and stepped over the line, dropping her parchment into the Goblet with a smug grin.

Her satisfaction lasted only a moment however, before the fire turned an angry red and spat her parchment out in a burst of flames and smoke. Then Arya herself was thrown away from the Goblet, back into the crowd who gasped as, with a bang, she started to transform in front of their eyes, growing older by the second, her hair whitening, her face and hands becoming lined with wrinkles, her back bending. Theon looked over with concern and Robb rushed to his sister’s side.  
‘Fucking damn it,’ Arya spat, pushing him away. ‘I was sure that would work.’  
The tension Theon had been carrying broke and he grinned as Robb took hold of his sister.  
‘I’m taking you to the hospital wing.’  
Arya snorted at him, ‘Any excuse to chat up the healer, hey?’  
‘How do you - never mind that. Come on. And I’m writing to mum and dad.’  
With Arya’s protests ringing through the Halls, Robb strode off, waving their half brother away when he made to follow.

Theon turned back to the Goblet with a grin, which faded a moment later. The Hogwarts would-be champions were stepping up to the Goblet.  
The first one across the line was Ramsay Bolton - of course it was. Theon should have known he couldn’t pass up the chance for glory.  
Next was Margery Tyrell from Ravenclaw and her brother Loras. Then his boyfriend Renley Baratheon from Gryffindor stepped up. Each champion got a cheer from their Houses and the others around them who wished them well. Last was a huge, burly seventh year from Hufflepuff - Drogo. Theon used to play against him in Quidditch and he hoped out of all of them it might be him to represent Hogwarts. He cut a striking figure, with his school robes pulled tight across his broad shoulders. Theon noticed that even the eyes of some of the Beauxbaton students followed him as he walked away.

After that the week wound down quickly and the excited buzz around the school was all about the upcoming feast that Saturday and the announcement of the school champions. There was a betting ring travelling around the school and some of the odds were interesting, but Theon couldn’t afford to get involved in that sort of thing anymore. He used to roll with the Slyerthins who ran it - Joffrey Lannister prime among them - and he couldn’t afford to put himself in a position of weakness with any of them.

______

At the feast of the Champions, tensions were running high. Everywhere Theon looked, people were just picking at their food, stealing glances at the cup at the front of the Great Hall, as well as the two mysterious guests who had appeared in chairs either side of the Headmaster.

Finally, Lord Tywin stood and the Hall descended into deathly quiet almost immediately.

‘It is time to announce the champions from each school,’ he said. ‘But first, I want to introduce our guests tonight. As you all know, the heads of each school will be on the judging panel.’ He indicated Madame Melissandre with a nod and Professor Rayder with a flick of his hand. ‘But to ensure the competition is … impartial, we have two additional judges joining us from the Ministry of Magic.’  
Lord Tywin turned to indicate the man on his right, a round man with a shaved head who was dressed in rich red and gold robes and whose hands were clasped in front of him, hidden in the sleeves of his robes.  
‘This is Lord Varys, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.’ Lord Varys smiled modestly and Lord Tywin turned to his left. ‘And this is Robert Baratheon, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.’  
The big man next to him beamed out a smile through his thick beard, red nose shining as he took another swig from his goblet and waved around the Great Hall, merrily.

‘Once a Champion’s name is drawn from the Goblet, the Tournament will begin and the Champion will be bound to compete.’  
Lord Tywin looked over the Hall. Every set of eyes was glued to his and he continued with satisfaction, ‘So, let us begin.’

At his words, the flames in the Goblet began to flicker higher and higher, as if a wind was driving them. Even as Theon thought this, the temperature in the Hall dropped and snow began to swirl from the stone cup. It swirled faster and harder until a piece of parchment shot from the Goblet. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed it, as it floated down through the air. Lord Tywin reached out and snatched it, unfolding it. He scanned it, then looked out into the multitude of students.

‘The champion from Durmstrang is ... Jon Snow.’  
Cheers erupted around the Hall and Robb leaned over to clap Jon on the shoulder with a grin. ‘Well done, bro.’  
Jon smiled back at him but Theon had the oddest feeling the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Jon pushed himself to his feet and walked up the aisle, cheering and clapping still resounding. He got a few wolf whistles as well, all of which he ignored. 

Theon looked around at the rest of the Durmstrang students. All those sitting at the Gryffindor table looked over the moon for Jon. Arya was standing on her seat with two fingers in her mouth whistling for him. But the others ... the ones who normally sat with the Slytherins - None of them looked particularly happy. Rast, in particular, the weasel-faced young man, was glaring daggers at Jon at the front of the room. As Theon watched, Joffrey Lannister leaned over and began muttering in his ear. 

Theon tore his gaze away as the talk died down and the Goblet began to emit a bright white light and a swirling storm of snowflakes. Again Lord Tywin caught the parchment that floated out. 

‘The champion from Beauxbaton is ... Daenerys Targaryen.’  
Again there were cheers around the Hall as the beautiful young silver-haired woman rose to her feet at the Ravenclaw table. She walked to the front of the Hall, head held high and proud, looking for all the world as though the outcome had been inevitable. Theon glanced back at the other students and was surprised to see two of the older ones holding a third into his seat. Theon thought he recognised the young man as Viserys, Daenerys’ twin brother. He looked like he was trying to struggle his way to his feet. He was shouting but it couldn’t be heard among the ongoing cheers. Finally he subsided with a dark glower up at his sister. 

Moments after the Hall had quietened again, the Goblet flared anew. This time the hush was absolute as the eyes of every Hogwarts student fixed on the piece of parchment in Lord Tywin’s hand. Every single person wondering who the Hogwarts champion would be. Lord Tywin drew the moment out, his pale eyes surveying the assembled students.  
‘The Hogwarts champion is ... Ramsay Bolton.’

There was a moment of stunned silence before the Slytherins began clapping enthusiastically. Ramsey rose to his feet and cast his gaze out over the Hall. People on other tables remembered themselves suddenly and began clapping, eyeing his back with dislike as he strode to the front of the Hall to stand beside Lord Tywin with the two other Champions. 

Theon felt his gut churn with anxiety. If he’d thought Bolton was bad before - he would be impossible now. His only hope was that the man would be maimed or killed in the challenges. 

He pulled his thoughts away from that happy concept to listen to the Headmaster again. 

‘ ... challenges will be spread out over a number of months, each of the three testing different skills and attributes. We will see -‘

Suddenly Lord Tywin broke off as the Goblet flared again, a blinding blue light, followed by a fierce swirl of snowflakes. A piece of parchment shot out and fluttered down to Lord Tywin, who seemed to catch it automatically. 

Lord Tywin arched an eyebrow and then read from the piece of parchment in his hand.

‘Theon Greyjoy.’


	6. Chapter 6

The silence in the Great Hall was absolute as Theon's name was read out. Lord Tywin looked up, pale eyes finding him unerringly among the masses of students on the Gryffindor table.  
'Theon Greyjoy,' Lord Tywin repeated, his voice stern. 'Come here.'  
Theon could feel his heart beating a hundred miles an hour as he looked around himself at the silent, shocked faces. _What the fuck was going on?_ Gendry gave him a small smile of encouragement, probably in response to the look of utter panic he was sure he was sporting, and he took a deep breath and stood.   
He could feel every eye in the Hall on him as he made his way to the front of the room, where the Champions stood and the Headmaster waited, grim faced. As he reached the man, Lord Tywin leaned in slightly and muttered, 'Go through the door behind the teacher's table and wait out the back.' Theon jerked a quick nod and shot a glance at the three standing beside him. 

Daenerys' face was harsh with disproval. Snow's face was impassive but Theon thought he saw concern there. His heart gave a little lurch that wasn't related to his complete confusion about what was going on.   
But then he saw Bolton and with a cold stab of fear, he realised exactly what had happened. Bolton's face showed puzzled surprise, but his eyes gave him away. The look in them was gloating and vicious. Theon didn't know how he'd done it, but he knew that somehow, Ramsay had made his name come out of that Goblet. He shivered and dropped his eyes, waking past them all with his head down, not breathing again until he was in the stone corridor behind the huge room.

He slumped against the stone wall, letting his head thump back against it and closing his eyes. _Fucking shit fuck_. He was in big trouble. Suddenly his mind eye was filled with images of deadly challenges, trials of magic and combat, where it would be so simple for someone to cast a curse at the worst moment ... It could be made to look like an accident oh, so easily. 

Theon was jolted from his macabre thoughts when the door beside him swung open and the Headmaster walked through, followed by the other school heads, the Ministry judges and the Champions. Snow came through the door last and as his eyes came up to meet Theon's, that look was still there, faint worry in grey eyes under furrowed brows. Theon gave him a small smile but it felt wobbly even to him and Snow's look of concern only deepened. 

They all stepped into a cosy, fire-lit chamber, the Champions moving to stand by the crackling flames. Theon stayed by the door, feeling anxious about what he knew was coming. As soon as the door closed, Madame Melissandre turned to the Hogwarts Headmaster.   
'What is the meaning of this Tywin?' she demanded, gesturing at Theon. He tried to make himself smaller as all eyes turned to him.   
'Indeed,' Professor Rayder agreed, 'though I am not surprised that you southerners would find a way to cheat and give yourselves two Champions.' His sneer made it clear exactly what he thought of Theon and his whole school.   
'This is unacceptable, Tywin,' the woman dressed all in red continued. 'Beauxbatons cannot continue to participate in a challenge that is so obviously set against us.'   
Theon snuck a glance at the silver-haired Beauxbatons champion and saw her face darken with anger at this statement and she opened her mouth, clearly about to protest. Without even turning Madame Melissandre said a few sharp words in another language and the young woman subsided, turning her glare onto Theon.   
'She's right, Lannister,' Rayder agreed hotly. 'If you get two Champions, we get two Champions. Or we're out.'

At this one of the Ministry judges stepped forward, coughing quietly. All heads whipped to him, but he didn't seem the last perturbed, tucking his hands into his over-large sleeves and inclining his bald head slightly.   
'Ahem, my Lords, my Lady. I think you'll find that the rules are quite clear. The Goblet of Winter is an ancient magical artefact. Once a champion's name is drawn from it, he or she is bound to compete ... and once it has gone out,' he smiled slightly, 'as we all saw it do just a moment ago, it cannot be re-lit until the beginning of the next Triwizard Tournament.'   
He shrugged and held his hands up, but Theon thought he saw a gleam of satisfaction in the man's eyes. 

At his words, faces around the room darkened, and almost as one, they all turned to look at Theon. He shrank back against the wall again. Lord Tywin pierced him with his cold eyes.   
'Mr Greyjoy,' he said, 'Would you care to come here and explain yourself?'   
It was worded as a request, though Theon knew it wasn't. He walked slowly to the centre of the room to stand before the imposing man.  
'How did you cause your name to be drawn from the Goblet?' Lord Tywin asked quietly, his voice deadly soft.  
'I didn’t!' Theon said immediately. 'I didn't even enter my name!'  
His eyes darted around the room, he could tell no one believed him. Even Snow looked doubtful. Bolton - his look sparkled with a savage joy. Theon looked away, feeling sick.  
'I think you misunderstand me, Mr Greyjoy. You will tell us all exactly what occurred. We cannot damage the delicate relationships this tournament was re-established to strengthen because one student took it into his head to cheat to gain a bit of glory for himself.'  
Theon looked up, mouth open, unable to answer for the total unfairness of this comment. He was spared from answering anyway, as at that moment, the door banged open and the ugliest man Theon had ever seen stumped into the room.

He was around the height of Theon's waist and he was wrapped in a short, black travelling cloak. He had stringy, straw coloured hair, which he pushed back impatiently from his face as he peered around the room at them all. Theon couldn't help but stare. He'd never seen a face so brutally scarred. It looked like the man had lost half his nose and a deep slash from eyebrow to chin crossed his visage. His eyes, when they met Theon's, caused him to draw back in surprise. One was green, the other, seemingly held in by a leather strap, was a vivid blue. As he watched, the blue eye whirled around in its socket, looking this way and that, and then completely backwards into the man's head.

It swirled to the front again and fixed on the Headmaster. The man smiled and it wasn't a friendly smile.  
'Hello, father,' he said, his voice rough and raspy. 'It's good to see you again. Despite everything you did to delay my arrival at the school, you'll be pleased to see I've made it in one piece.' The man paused and smiled wryly, pulling his cloak off his shoulders and throwing it on a nearby chair. 'Well, almost one piece.' Theon glanced down to see one of the man's legs was missing from the knee down, replaced with what looked like a few metal bones. The blue eye swivelled around to look at him, while the green one remained looking at Lord Tywin. Theon shivered and looked away. 

'Seems I've arrived just in time as well,' the man stumped over to the table by the fire and reached up for a glass. He drew a wineskin from his coat pocket and pulled the cork with his teeth, pouring a generous measure into the glass. He didn’t offer anyone else a drink.  
'Davos tells me someone's been playing tricks with a very old artefact,' he said as he tilted the glass back and took a long swallow. 'He tells me someone's been causing mischief for one of our students.'  
'Professor Seaworth needs to learn to keep his mouth shut about things that don't concern him,' the Headmaster growled through gritted teeth.  
'Hmmm,' the man said, noncommittally. 'I would think that was why you hired me father - apart from the fact that you couldn't get anyone else to even consider the post. Dark Arts are my speciality of course … and what could be darker than forcing a student into a deadly competition against his will?' Now the man turned his mismatched eyes on Theon and he felt pinned to the spot, like the figure in front of him could read his every thought and emotion.

'Rubbish Tyrion. You always did have a tendency for the most fantastical answers,' Lord Tywin scoffed. 'Mr Greyjoy was just about to tell us what he did to get himself drawn out of the Goblet. There's nothing more to it than a boy wanting to make a name for himself.'   
'Is that right?' the man - Tyrion - mused, looking at Theon. 'You're a Greyjoy, right?'  
Theon nodded.  
'You any better at magic than your sister and brothers and father and uncles were?'  
Theon shrugged, 'a little,' he muttered, embarrassed. His family was not known as outstanding in any characteristic, except for a tendency to be thuggish and to take things which didn't belong to them. It had been such a source of shame for Balon when his last remaining son had been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin.

'Right,' Tyrion raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and turned back to his father. 'Any ideas how a mediocre, seventeen year old wizard managed to hoodwink an incredibly powerful magical object into thinking he belonged to a fourth school in a competition of three schools?'  
He looked around the room, but no one spoke.  
'No. No one? I'll tell you why not. _Because he didn't do it._ ' Tyrion turned back to Theon again. 'You got enemies, boy?'

Theon paused, eyes flicking to Ramsay briefly. The young man was standing behind all the others, closest to the fire. The look on his face was as nasty as Theon had ever seen it. His eyes seemed to dare Theon to say something. He felt his stomach lurch again in fear and he shook his head as he looked away.  
'No, no one … Sir.'  
'Professor will do, lad.' Tyrion said, fixing him with that all-seeing blue eye. 'Well no hope for it I suppose. Your name came out. You have to compete.' His eye swivelled around the whole group. 'You all do. All we can do is employ _constant vigilance_ to make sure whoever put your name in that Goblet doesn't get the chance they're after to do you harm.'  
With those dire words, he drained his glass, clunked it down on the table, and turned, stumping from the room.

There was silence as everyone stared after his departing back. It was broken only when the other Ministry official, the huge, bearded man, who'd remained silent until that time, spoke, clapping his hands.  
'Right, that sorts that out then, doesn't it. Will make for interesting odds, if nothing else. Dwarf had the right idea though. Got any wine?' Theon saw a grimace of distaste cross Lord Tywin's face, but he gestured out of the room.  
'You're all dismissed,' the Headmaster said to the champions. To the heads of school, he gestured to the door and the departing Ministry official, but Madame Melissandre turned up her nose, sweeping Daenerys before her, and Professor Rayder strode from the room, not even bothering to reply.

As everyone filed out after them, Theon was startled to feel a hand on his arm. He looked down and then up into Snow's face. The other man dropped his hand as if burned and cleared his throat, rubbing one hand through his dark curls. The tattooed marks on either side of his eyes had flattened out and Theon realised with a jolt that they reminded him of a wolf when it laid its ears right back on its head. He almost smiled but Snow's words took all thought out of his head.  
'You okay?' the other man asked.  
Theon's head was spinning, he tried for humour, 'Yep. Great. Doing just wonderful.'  
Snow grimaced and Theon felt like kicking himself. 'Right, yeah, fair enough. I wanted to ask - that is … we're - ah Robb's organised a party tonight … on the boat. You - do you want to come?' Snow glanced up to meet his eyes and then down at his feet and Theon tried to gather his thoughts, mind still whirling from all that had just happened.  
'Ah - um yes, yeah. I'd love to. Boats are great. I mean, sounds great. Um, thanks.' _Shut up idiot_ he groaned at himself.  
Snow nodded at him, meeting his eyes briefly, and opened his mouth. But then he closed it again and hurried out of the room. Theon stared after him, a fluttery feeling running through his chest and drawing everything else from his mind. It was a long moment before his anxiety returned.


	7. Chapter 7

Not for the first time, Theon wished his family had the money to afford him an invisibility cloak. The amount of time he spent sneaking around the place ... He ignored the sneering voice that whispered in his ear, _Reek, Reek, rhymes with sneak._

The portrait swung silently out on its hinges and he stepped through, glad for the first time that he wasn't too popular among the Gryffindors these days. A few people had hung around to congratulate him, but most had been in their rooms when he walked back in. Within half an hour, the common room was empty and he headed back out to where he'd much rather be. He remembered Snow's eyes, the fierce black lines inked around them, and not for the first time, he imagined himself cupping the other man's face, rubbing his thumbs across the marks as he drew him into a deep, hot kiss. He felt warmth tingle through him at the image. He didn't know what it was about the man. He was gorgeous of course. Students all across the castle were hanging off his every movement ... Some of the teachers too, if he wasn't mistaken. The way the Beauxbaton headmistress looked at him sometimes …

But it was more than that, now that he'd spent a bit of time around the man. There was something about his brooding silence, the way he wouldn't let anyone in ... The faint hints of _something_ Theon caught in his eyes every now and again ...

He was jolted from his thoughts by a low mewl and he glanced up to see a pair of large yellow eyes glowing at the end of the corridor.   
'Fuck,' he muttered and sped up, giving the caretaker's cat, Castamere, a vicious glare as he passed it. Horrid animal. It had a sixth sense for knowing when students were doing something they shouldn't be and wherever it went, old Walder Frey was never far behind. Sure enough, just as he rounded the corner he heard shuffling footsteps and muttered curses. 

He made his way quickly and quietly out of the castle and down to the lake. As he approached it, the Durmstrang ship grew in his vision. It was black against the dark night sky, but high above on the deck he could see lights and he could hear music and laughter floating down. At the shore he paused and hesitated, suddenly unsure of his welcome, unsure if this was a good idea. He was standing there, looking up at the ship still, when a voice rang out into the night. 

'Greyjoy, you made it! Hang on a sec and we'll send Gen out with the dinghy.'  
Even from the distance he was at, he could hear Gendry's laughing response.   
'Every time, Stark. Every time. I got lost once. When will you let it go?'  
But a moment later he could make out the figure of someone climbing down the rope ladder on the side of the ship and then the gentle splash of oars cutting the water.  
Gendry smiled when he reached the shore and Theon could make him out in the faint light of the moon.  
'Hey Greyjoy, jump in. Do you want me to hold it steady?' Gendry asked as he made to rise from his seat.  
'No, I'm good,' Theon replied as he jumped lightly from the shore to the side of the boat, balancing for a moment before stepping in and sitting down on one of the wooden seats. 

Gendry dug the oars in and started rowing back towards the ship. He looked up at Theon,  
'So I never said congratulations for being made champion.' His voice was even and he showed no sign of strain as he dug the oars into the water and pulled them swiftly towards the boat.  
Theon grunted. 'I don't know if it's congratulations, or commiserations, I'm after.'  
Gendry's smile widened at that and he said, 'Come on man, I'm sure there'll be some perks. At the very least you'll get to hang around with Jon a bit more.' His smile turned calculating at that and Theon flushed. _Did everyone know? Were they all just laughing at him?_   
'Hey, sorry, dude, that was uncalled for. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure no one else has noticed the way you - anyway. I know Jon would be clueless. He's hopeless about that sort of stuff.'  
Theon nodded, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just looked up at the approaching ship. A moment later they bumped gently against the side and Gendry secured the dingy. 

He turned to Theon, 'Do you want me to hold the ladder steady for you?'  
Theon shook his head, a small grin coming back to his face. His ruined hand might mean he couldn't do some things any more, but he'd been climbing ropes since before he could walk. This … this he could do in his sleep. He made his way swiftly up the ladder and at the top railing saw Robb leaning over with a hand extended. He grasped it and the other man pulled him up over the side, clapping him on the back with a wide smile. 'Congratulations Theon! Champion hey. Looks like Jon will have a run for his money.'  
Theon glanced around to see Snow leaning up against the mast, a drink in hand. Snow raised one eyebrow and the tattoos running down his arms _spiked_ in response to whatever he was thinking. Then Ygritte walked over to him and he took his gaze off Theon, as they started up a conversation.

Theon felt a hot flush run through him and tore his gaze away, looking around the boat. The professor was nowhere in sight, but all the Durmstrang students were aboard, seated or standing in various locations around the deck. There was a keg of something that looked like fire whisky sitting on the stairs and a precarious stack of shot glasses piled up against it. Next minute Arya came barrelling up to him, punching him hard in the arm.  
'Ow,' Theon recoiled, rubbing at his arm, 'what was that for?'  
She gave him a dark look, 'How did you do it squid boy?'  
'Do what? Squid - huh?' He looked at her, still rubbing his arm.  
Arya shrugged, 'It's just what you remind me of. I think that would be your totem mark if you ever got it done. Anyway _not the point_. How did you make that Goblet spit your name out? And more to the point, why didn’t you tell me how to!'

Theon frowned at her, dropping his hand. 'My what now? I didn't make it do anything. I didn't even want to enter the bloody competition. And anyway, why would I have told you if I knew how to do something like that?'  
Arya opened her mouth to reply but Robb nudged her out of the way with his hip and handed Theon a drink.  
'Go annoy someone else, will you. Find some friends your own age.'  
Arya glared at him, 'I have friends, heaps of them.'  
Robb raised an eyebrow, looking around with exaggerated care, 'Really, I don't think they got your invitation then.'  
Arya scowled, and muttered, 'You're such a jerk. I'm going to tell the Healer what I heard you saying about her in the shower the other -' She jumped away with a laugh as Robb reached for her with a growl.

Looking back over her shoulder with one last smirk, she skipped over to where Jon and Ygritte were still talking and grabbed Jon's drink out of his hand, raising it to her lips. Without breaking conversation, Jon grabbed the drink back and wrapped an arm around his sister's neck, pulling her into a headlock. She struggled and yelled and Robb chuckled beside Theon.  
'He's the only one who can keep a lid on her.'  
Theon smiled at him, something twinging in his chest at the happy family they all made. To take his mind off it, he took a deep swig of his drink and coughed as the burn immediately made its way down his throat and glowed hot in his belly.  
Robb chuckled again, 'Fire whisky.'  
Theon gasped, 'Yep. Got that.' But he couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed, the drink was already making its way through him, loosening him up. He leaned against the railing with Robb, sipping his drink and feeling his buzz grow. They chatted about classes, and Quidditch and about the North. Theon didn't say much about Pyke. Most of his good memories were about being down on the beach by himself, or being out on a boat with Asha, and that wasn't quite as exciting as hunting on the back of Hippogriff's or defending your home from Ice Giants.

Eventually Robb went off to get them another drink and Theon was just looking around, feeling nice and mellow. He was trying to talk himself into going over to say hello to Snow - the man had asked him to come after all - when some of the other Durmstrangs swaggered up to him. It was Rast, Tohrren and Tanner - the ones he'd often seen hanging around with Joffrey and Ramsey. He stood straighter, slightly wary, and immediately his suspicions were confirmed when the weasel-marked man - Rast - sneered at him, his tattoos seeming to twitch as though he was ready to pounce.  
'What are you doing here?' he demanded. 'You're not one of us. You don't belong on our ship.'  
Theon glanced around for Robb, but he was engaged in a conversation with Tormund over by the stairs and no one else seemed to have noticed what was going on.  
He looked back at the three of them, 'I was invited,' he muttered.

Rast snorted, 'So you're someone's lay for the night then are you? That's all you're good for by the look of you.' The two beside him sniggered at the comment.  
Theon felt himself shrinking under the contemptuous regard of the three men. 'I - I'm not-' he began.  
'Ever walked a plank, Greyjoy? Maybe we could play pirates with you?'   
Something in that comment made him think of Asha and of Rodrick and Maron, when they'd been kids playing around on father's ships. Before his brothers had died, when things had been better and he had been happy. That memory and the fire whisky burning through him sparked a bit of courage he didn't know he still had. He squared his jaw and stood up straight again.

'Fuck off,' he returned coldly, 'there's not one thing on a ship I couldn't do better than you.'  
Rast drew back, eyes widening slightly before they narrowed in calculation. The two beside him laughed as though he'd just said the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Rast silenced them with a slice of his hand.  
'You're on,' he said, holding Theon's gaze. 'First one to the crows nest. When I win, you can fuck right off this ship and not come back.'  
Theon glance up to the crows nest, almost lost above them in the darkness of the night. He'd always been told it was stupid to climb at night, and it had been such a long time since he had -   
'Knew you were full of shit,' Rast laughed.

But Theon cut him off, 'When I win,' he said loudly. 'You three can crawl into whatever hole you sleep in, so I can enjoy my night.'  
Rast flushed darkly and spun on his heel to move across to the main mast and Theon followed him. There was heavy rigging running from the mainsail high above them, down to either side of the ship, after that it would be a climb up the mast itself, feet and hands on the rope wrapped around it at intervals then up over the topsails and into the nest. He felt his blood thrilling at the thought of it … of course that could be the whiskey talking.

He approached the rigging at the starboard side, kicking his shoes and socks off as he did so and shrugging out of his robes, so that he was in pants and a shirt. He knelt to roll his pants up to his calves. If he was going to win this he needed every bit of grip his body could provide. He hesitated for a moment as he stood back up, looking at his hand and the glove that covered it, with the stiff, padded fingers. He glanced around to see that everyone had stopped talking and was looking over at him or Rast, who was also removing his shoes as he stood at the port rigging. Theon squared his shoulders and pulled the glove off in a quick movement, revealing his left hand. He flexed both hands quickly to warm them up, ignoring the murmurs as people caught sight of his mutilated hand. It wasn't a pretty sight. The thumb and first two fingers were gone completely, as well as part of his palm. The wound at least had healed cleanly, but he still remembered the slicing agony and the word _Sectumsempra_ in the air.

He pushed those thoughts aside and focussed on loosening up, rolling his sleeves up as he jumped on the spot, eyeing the lines. He was startled by a hand on his arm, and he was spun around to see - Snow, looking at him with something like anger on his face.  
'What are you doing?' the other man hissed.  
Theon smiled back at him, the heat of Snow's hand on his arm and the strength of his grip just adding to his sense of recklessness.  
'Just a friendly competition. Nothing to worry about,' he said with a cocky grin. Snow's tattoos swirled agitatedly and he opened his mouth. But then he closed it again, looking frustrated.  
'Just - just be careful, okay.'  
Theon's grin loosened into something more genuine as he looked into the other man's eyes. _Fuck the competition, maybe I should just kiss him_ , he thought, dazedly. But then Snow's gaze shuttered and he stepped back, dropping his hand from Theon's arm. Theon could feel his heart beating in his ears and he took a deep breath. _Get a grip_ , he chided himself.

A moment later a ball of light flew up into the crow's nest and Theon glanced across to see Snow lowering his wand, not looking at anyone. It was enough to light the rigging in a soft glow. It would mean he could go quicker. Theon smiled to himself as his heart skipped again.  
'Ready to get slaughtered, flat foot?' Rast called out to him, as he put his hands on the ropes.  
Theon just laughed in response, if only he knew.  
'Marks,' called Robb, who seemed to have gotten in on the act, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling from a lot more fire whiskey than was probably wise.  
'Set.' Theon grasped his own rope with his good hand, looping his wrist around another one and grasping as well as he could with his remaining two fingers.  
'Go!' Robb called, with a flourish of his hands. As soon as Theon heard the word he blurred into action. He boosted himself up on the ship's rail, crouched and _sprung_ up into the rigging. This low down, the wide net that flowed down from the mainsail was like a highway. It would be impossible for him to fall and so he didn’t take any care. He leaped and climbed and moved as quickly as he ever had, stretching and grasping and pulling, body revelling in the feeling of strength and fluid movement. He didn't even spare a thought for his opponent, focussing only on the feeling of the ropes under his hands and feet. 

Within moments he'd passed the first sail and was climbing for the second mainsail. The rigging was getting narrower, only a few body-widths across now, but he didn't slow his speed. He felt like tonight he couldn't be touched. Tonight, he was Theon Greyjoy again. Ironborn.

He could dimly hear shouting and cat calling from below him and he grinned savagely. When he stood on the yard, the wood firm beneath his feet, he chanced a glance down. Rast was clambering up over the yard of the first sail, the look on his face murderous. Theon felt his grin widen and he reached up to the mast, wrapping his arms around it and gripping on the rope as he used his feet to propel himself up. His missing fingers made this section bit more difficult, meaning he had to hug the mast more than normal, but he pushed himself swiftly up and over the next yard, not even pausing to look back this time as he titled his head to see the glowing ball of light just a few metres above him.

The ship swayed under him at this height, even on the calmness of the lake, but he had climbed far higher in far worse seas than this and the back and forth sway did nothing to loosen his grip. He pushed himself up the last few metres and stood on top of the final yard, before pulling himself up and over the wooden edge of the crows nest, whooping in delight. He could hear answering calls below him and took hold of the ball of light that was floating gently by his head. He looked over the edge, at the deck, far, far below, and saw that Rast was now climbing the mast. The man hadn't given up - Theon gave him that. 

He looked down at everyone looking back up at him and smiled at the idea that occurred to him. It was a reckless smile. It was a smile the old Theon would have smiled. Then he pulled himself up to the edge of the crow's nest, balancing easily on the wooden railing. He took a deep breath, gripped the glowing light more tightly in his bad hand and jumped out into space. He didn't hear the screams below him as the wind whipped at his hair. Just for fun he tucked himself into a quick roll as the netting stretched out below him. He hit it and bounced down it, uncurling from his roll and reaching out with his good hand to stop his descent in the ropes. The movement wrenched his shoulder - he wasn't as light now as he'd been at nine years old, but it was worth it for the looks on everyone's faces as he slid off the rigging and back onto the deck.

Robb approached him first, 'That was - wow. Just - wow.' Theon smiled at him, blood thrilling through him, but he moved past him and back to Snow, who was standing in the centre of the deck, face impassive but tattoos swirling madly across his arms and around his eyes. Theon went up to him, holding out his hand, the one gripping the glowing light.  
'I think this is yours,' he said with a smirk.  
Snow looked down at it, then reached out for it silently, his fingers brushing Theon's briefly as he took it. Theon felt electricity spark through him at the contact and he drew in a breath. When Snow met his eyes again, the other man's held a hint of warmth that he hadn't see in them before. 

Then the moment was broken as everyone gathered around them, clapping Theon on the back and exclaiming loudly about his climb and his jump. Another drink was pushed into his hand and he tilted his head back for a swallow. When he looked back around, Snow was leaning against the mast again, but his dark eyes were still on Theon.

After another drink or two, he didn’t remember much more about the night … but his dreams were full of light touches, and hot, brooding eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

When Theon woke up with his head pounding the next day, he thanked every God he knew that it was a Sunday. The idea of facing classes in this state … he shuddered. Then moaned. His bed rocked under him as he moved and he realised he was in a hammock. Normally the gentle movement back and forth would have been soothing, but now, it just made him want to vomit. He pushed his way out of it, getting his legs caught up and then he fell to the floor with a thud.

He heard a snigger but didn't have the energy to lift his head to see who was there.  
'Breakfast's ready, squid boy,' called the same voice that had laughed at him. Theon grunted in response and Arya went on. 'You look as bad as Robb. You two could form a club or something. Call it 'Guys who can't drink for shit.'  
'Go away,' Theon moaned. 'Please.'  
Arya laughed again and then he heard her footsteps disappearing up the stairs. He lay there a moment longer before pulling himself into a sitting position, pausing to let the throbbing in his head ease up. He looked around and saw his bundle of shoes, robes and his glove piled on the floor near him. Slowly and painfully he dressed, pulling his glove back on with a feeling of relief … what had he been thinking last night? But then he remembered the freedom of the climb and the joy of the jump and the feeling of power at getting one over Rast and he couldn't bring himself to regret too much.

He made his way slowly to the galley to find a very subdued group eating at the table. Rast, Tohrren and Tanner were nowhere to be seen … and neither was Snow, Theon realised with a stab of disappointment. He sat down between Robb and Gendry and got a grunt from each of them. Arya was the only perky one, chattering away to each of them in turn, despite the complete lack of response she was getting.  
When Theon had had a cup of coffee and forced down a few pieces of toast, he stood. 'I'm gunna get out of here,' he muttered. 'Thanks for a great night guys.'  
'No worries, Greyjoy,' Robb said, pulling his head up from his hands. 'You can party with us any time. Arya - row him across would you.'  
To Theon's surprise, Arya didn't even argue, just stood and indicated the way before her with a sweeping gesture. He had a feeling there was more mockery in his future though.

When he was back in Gryffindor tower, Theon collapsed into his bed again. Study be damned. He needed sleep.

\----

Monday started as badly as all Mondays. He had Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures and then double Potions - all with the Slytherins. All with Bolton. It started out bearable - dark, intense stares from across the room, a paper bird flapping into the side of his head. When he unfurled it, a picture of Theon on his knees in front of Ramsey, moving back and for- Theon balled the paper in his fist and glanced over at Ramsey, who was watching him from the front of the room with a gloating smirk. As Theon looked at him, he licked his lips. Theon shuddered and looked away. 

They were given a three foot essay on the six properties of the third law of species transmutation due by that Friday and Theon lost five points from Gryffindor for still not being able to make a butterbeer that didn't have tiny feathers floating in it. Snow couldn't do it either but he just looked bored when Professor Tyrell told him he should be applying himself more if he wanted to succeed at something other than sitting on a stick. 

In Care of Magical Creatures, they were still studying the lake creatures, and Davos had enticed the giant squid close to the shore so he could explain its physiology. Theon stayed right beside him, partly because he was fascinated, but partly so that Bolton wouldn't have a chance to get near him. Thankfully Davos was more into practical tests than setting homework. Theon thought guiltily of the two other essays and three chapters of reading he'd meant to finish yesterday. He'd do it that night he resolved. When the class finished - every student having to tell Davos one fact about the squid (he snorted when Snow muttered that it lived in water) he went to lunch with the Durmstrang students.

This was the first time this year Theon had had lunch with everyone in the Great Hall. Normally he skipped the meal altogether or grabbed something quickly and retreated to somewhere he could be alone to eat it. He hadn't realised quite how … intense … the competition for Snow's attention had become. As he sat with the Durmstrang students, a steady stream of people found reasons to pass them, to lean into their space - especially Snow's - to say hello, to ask questions about classes … but one girl in particular …

'Hi Jon,' Margaery Tyrell purred, sitting on the bench next to Snow and leaning back on her elbows so she was facing him. The movement pushed her chest out and from across the table, Theon could see most of her boobs, as her shirt had more buttons undone than done up. She shook her long, golden curls back over her shoulder and reached out to put one hand on his muscled forearm, scratching lightly down it.  
'You'll be so busy now, what with being a _Champion_ and all. You know if you ever want a little help _studying_ … well, I am in Ravenclaw after all. I'd be happy to help you out with anything you need.'  
Theon almost choked on the innuendo in her voice. He could see a number of people around them staring at her with dazed expressions though. She was, objectively, one of the hottest girls in the school, and not afraid of going after whoever, and whatever, she wanted. Snow however, looked unaffected.  
'I'm sick of this shit,' Theon thought he heard Snow mutter from across the table, his focus on his plate. Robb leaned into him, and Theon dropped his gaze to his own food as he listened, only feeling a little bad about doing it.  
'Jon don't, not in front of -' Robb hesitated and Theon wondered what he'd been about to say. Whatever it was, Snow ignored him and pushed his plate back, turning to face Margaery. Theon looked up and caught the look of triumph that flared in her eyes.

Everything in Snow's demeanour changed and he took on a look that Theon had only seen that first night when he'd walked into the Great Hall for the Tournament opening. Suddenly his face was coldly handsome, arrogance written all over him. His tattoos froze in place, framing his piercing grey eyes. He lifted a leg so that he was straddling the bench, his legs bracketing Margaery, who couldn't disguise the little breath that left her at his movement. Snow put one arm around her back and leaned right into her ear.  
'What is it you think you could _help_ me with?' Theon heard him murmur in a low, husky voice. His face was so close to her neck that he was almost kissing her. Theon couldn't look away, and couldn't stop the spear of shock that ran through him at the sudden change of circumstances. Margaery recovered from her surprise quickly, leaning her head back to make her neck more available to him, and dropping one hand to rub along his thigh.  
'I'm sure between the two of us, we could figure something out,' she purred, throatily.  
Snow _nosed_ against her jaw, humming his agreement. Theon felt sick.  
'Maybe we should make it a date?' Snow suggested, nipping lightly at her neck.   
Theon couldn't deal with it anymore. He felt like his chest was breaking open. He pushed away from the table, needing to get away … to be anywhere else.  
'Theon, wait -' Robb called out.  
'Not hungry,' Theon grunted as he turned away, pushing past students to leave the Great Hall. It took him the rest of the lunch break to push the images into the back of his mind, to calm his breathing and tell himself he was being an idiot to ever have considered there could have been something between them to start with. He considered not going to the afternoon's double Potions, but he'd already skipped it the week before …

As soon as he walked into Potions he knew his shit day had just gone from bad to disaster zone. Professor Qyburn asked them all to partner up as they stepped in the doorway, and his mind was still stuck on what he had witnessed over lunch … and what it could lead to. Before he could think, Bolton had grabbed one of his arms and steered him to a table at the back of the room. Theon froze at his touch, unable to move or act. By the time everyone was seated and Robb looked around to see where he was, it was too late to do anything about it. Theon tried to convey with his eyes that he was okay, but he had a feeling his face was probably reflecting sick panic more than anything else.

Bolton didn't say or do anything as Qyburn started the lesson, ever the model student when it mattered.  
'Today our lesson will focus on the Draught of Living Death, which those of you who were present for my lesson last week,' he fixed Theon with a piercing stare, 'will remember. This potion, when brewed correctly, can induce an appearance of death in the recipient. The heartbeat, breathing and warmth all leave the body.' His eye glowed hotly as he spoke and he rubbed his hands together. 'However! The subject is still alive, and aware of all that occurs around them. If the antidote is administered during the correct time period, the subject will recover fully. If not,' he shrugged, as if this outcome was no matter, then turned to the board, tapping it smartly. Writing appeared on it in spidery lines and there was a bustle of noise as students stood and made their way to the supply cupboards at the front of the room for ingredients.

'You stay here, pet,' Ramsey murmured, a hand on his neck, squeezing in warning. 'I'll get your things for you.' Theon looked down at his desk, ashamed of himself for obeying while at the same time glad for a chance to dodge Robb, Gendry and Ygritte, but especially Snow. At one point Robb caught his eye again, but Theon shook his head, indicating the other man shouldn't come over. It would only make things worse. 

'You know,' Ramsey mused in a conversational tone, as he began chopping and measuring his ingredients. 'This potion could come in really handy. Just think of all the things you could do while someone was under its influence. You know,' he said, looking at Theon with eyes that sparked, as a thought came to them. He leaned in so his breath was hot on Theon's neck. It was like a sick parody of the embrace he'd witnessed over lunch. 'You know,' he repeated, voice low so only Theon could hear him. 'I've never fucked a corpse … I wonder what it would feel like … all cold and unresponsive … but knowing that that corpse wasn't a corpse … that they knew exactly what was happening.' He shuddered and half closed his eyes, licking his lips before he turned back to his potion making. Theon wanted to vomit. His skin crawled, and he wanted to shout to the whole room what a dangerous, sick, perverted fuck Ramsey Bolton was.

Bolton seemed to anticipate his thoughts. 'Tsk tsk, Reek,' he said, his voice still low and hidden over the bubbling of a room full of cauldrons and the chopping of knives and clinking of scales.  
'We've had this talk before. You know no one would believe you over me. I'm a model student, one of the best in the school. My father is Roose Bolton, Minister for Magic. Yours is a trumped up fishmonger. And there was all that nasty business last year … You remember last year don't you, pet. You remember how the whole school saw you -'  
'Don't,' Theon whispered, gut clenching, throat tightening. 'Please don't.'  
'Please don't, what?'  
Theon hated himself. _Reek, Reek, rhymes with weak._  
'Please don't ... master.'  
Ramsey smiled, a smile full of teeth. 'You _do_ remember,' he said brightly. He looked across at Theon's empty cauldron. 'You'd better get a move on, pet. This potion needs a good half lesson to simmer, you know.'  
Theon picked up his knife with a hand that shook badly and began clumsily cutting his nightshade. It was hard to hold things at the best of times - now …

'Do you want some help, pet?' Ramsey asked, looking across at him with concern. 'You seem to be all butterfingers today.'  
'N-no thank you,' he forced himself to whisper the last word, shame and self-loathing flooding hot through him, 'master.'  
'While we're on the subject,' Ramsey continued, still in that cheery tone, 'You slutting yourself around after Jon Snow is getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think? He's clearly got better taste than the likes of you.' Theon looked up at Bolton, anguish in his eyes, then looked down at the cauldron, lost for words. He hunched in on himself. How could this man destroy him with a few words. 'After all,' Bolton said, voice now hard and angry '... We wouldn't want you to lose anything more ... vital, this time, now would we?'   
Theon felt a stab of fear at the threat, even though it was one he'd heard before. He nodded dully. It was less painful than fighting back. He'd learned that a long time ago.  
Ramsey reached across to pat him on the head. 'I'm glad we had this little chat,' he beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for Theon, he got a few good kicks in the guts this ch :'(
> 
> Next one coming tomorrow. Let me know if you're liking it :)


	9. Chapter 9

He spent the next few days hiding again, not speaking unless spoken to, not lingering after classes, not sitting near Robb or Snow or any of the others. _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with meek._ He tried to push the bitterness away. It was better this way. For everyone. And at least it allowed him to avoid seeing that Tyrell bitch all over Snow again. They hadn't fucked, he knew, because all the whole school could talk about was what they _were_ doing, which seemed to be rubbing up against each other in every available corridor. 

Theon still felt sick when he thought about what an idiot he'd been to imagine he could be good enough for a man like Snow. And who could blame him. Margaery wasn't a bitch, not really, and she was stunning. Theon ... Theon was broken.  
He felt even worse about himself when thoughts of grey eyes and hard muscles and soft curls wouldn't leave him at night and he whispered an anguished silencing charm, before reaching into his pants, gripping his cock roughly and bringing himself to a quick release, imagining himself in Margaery's place, Snow's mouth on his, hot and wet, Snow's teeth on his neck, hands on his body. Hot guilt seared through him when he came and he bit down so hard on his lip he tasted blood. 

The avoidance was working, Robb looked at him with sad eyes now instead of trying to talk to him. But then in their Thursday History of Magic class, something changed. Professor Baratheon was droning on and on and Theon was trying desperately to stay alert enough to take notes. What he was talking about - the War of the Five Kings - sounded like it should have been really interesting, but he was struggling to pick out more than a stray name. Was the Night King one of the five Kings? Or was that just a story he'd read in the library the other day? He needed to do well in this class, damnit.

A movement at the doorway caught Theon's eye as it opened and Tarly stepped into the room, hovering at the door and waiting for the Professor to notice him. Unfortunately, Professor Baratheon's usual lecture style - him reading monotonously from a sheathe of notes in his hands without looking up at the room - meant that he had no idea Tarly was standing there. Despite himself, Theon felt a small grin creep across his face at the other student's predicament. Tarly looked conflicted, not wanting to interrupt the Professor, but clearly needing to deliver a message. Finally, he coughed softly, looking across at the Professor, who paid him no attention. However a few more students looked across at him, and some soft laughs broke out across the room.

Tarly went red and coughed again, a little louder this time. More laughter and a few whispers started up. Professor Baratheon raised his voice slightly and kept reading. Tarly ran a hand through his hair and moved from foot to foot, indecisively. Finally, he took another step into the room and cleared his through, 'Er, Professor,' he called softly, then louder, 'Professor Baratheon?'  
The Professor jerked his head up, the look on his face affronted, as though no student had dared interrupt his class before. He glared around the room before settling his gaze on Tarly, still standing near the doorway.  
'Yes?' he said sharply.  
'Uh, sorry to interrupt, Professor, but the Tournament Champions need to come with me. Lord Tywin wants them.'  
The Professor frowned, 'What does that have to do with my class?'  
'Uh, Sir, Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy are Champions, Sir. They're in this class. Sir.' Tarly looked more and more anxious the longer the stern-faced Professor stared at him.  
'Fine,' he said at last, looking out over the students without focussing on anyone. 'Snow, Greyjoy, out. I'll expect an additional two feet of parchment from each of you about why the War of the Five Kings was such a divisive time and what lessons we can learn from it.'  
Theon groaned quietly as he stood and gathered his parchment and quill into his bag. More homework. But as he stood and made his way down the stairs to the doorway at the front of the room, he realised that was the least of his worries. Jon Snow was ahead of him. Jon Snow who he was expressly avoiding at the moment.

He lagged behind them as they walked down the corridor. Snow glanced over his shoulder once, but Theon avoided his gaze, and then they were being shown into the school's trophy room by Tarly and Theon saw that the others were already there. Daenerys was standing over by a large case of trophies and Bolton was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, looking bored. His expression flickered when he saw Theon entering behind Snow, but before he could move, someone else swept in front of the two of them.

'You're here, wonderful. Perfect. I'm Petyr Baelish, reporter for the Daily Prophet,' he introduced himself with an ingratiating smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'But I'm sure you already knew that.' He smoothed a hand over slickly styled black hair. 'Now we're going to start with photos and then I'll be taking each of you for an interview. Does that sound okay? Wonderful,' he said without waiting for acknowledgement from them. He stepped behind the two of them and shepherded them to the centre of the room, where Bolton was still sprawled in the chair.

'Right,' he said, fake smile still firmly in place. 'We'll need you up please. Quidditch champion front and centre I think.' He indicated Bolton should rise with a smooth movement and Theon saw Ramsey scowl darkly at being upstaged. Snow had to be physically pushed into the chair and on looking at him, Theon thought his glare could match Bolton's.  
'Now, our lovely lady behind him I think? Yes, wonderful. And you two - either side. A hand on the shoulder of our Champion I think,' he said to Theon and Ramsey. Then he laughed lightly, and Theon couldn't tell whether there was a hint of mockery in it. 'Well you're all Champions, aren't you - some are just more … recognised than others.'  
Theon chanced a look at Bolton's face and he shuddered at the dark rage he saw brewing there. He hesitated, but the reporter stepped in, lifting his hand and placing it on Snow's shoulder. He could feel the strong muscles and the warmth of the man underneath his palm and the feeling sent a twinge through him that was part despair and part desire. He drew in a sharp breath at the touch and the reporter gave him a quick, calculating look. Then Baelish stepped back, framing the image with his hands. 'Yes, perfect. Right. Smiles please.'  
Theon attempted a smile but he had a feeling it was more of a grimace. He didn't even want to know what Snow and Bolton looked like right now. The flash of the camera left spots floating in front of his eyes.

'Right, that will do, I'm sure. Proof in the pudding and all that. Right, now, interviews. I'll have you, first, of course,' he said, indicating Snow. Then he hesitated, beckoning to Theon, 'and maybe you as well. Could be interesting. This way please.'  
Baelish led the way to a door at the back of the room, he opened it and herded the two of them in, in front of him. Theon looked around in the dim light, then back at the reporter with confusion.  
Baelish smiled at him again, dark eyes glinting, 'Cosy, isn't it?'  
'It's a broom cupboard,' Theon replied, nonplussed.  
'Indeed,' the reporter said, shepherding them in to the back so that Theon was standing against the wall with Snow beside him. The room was so small that they were pressed together from shoulder to hip. Theon tried to ignore the warmth running all the way down his side, the feelings it evoked in him to have Snow so close. He could smell the man, damn it. He smelled ama- _Stop it!_ Theon told himself harshly, closing his eyes for a moment. _Think of Margaery rubbing herself all over him. That's who he really wants._ When he opened his eyes, the reporter was eyeing him with something like triumph. Snow was staring at the ground, tattoos swirling in agitation, though he was silent.

'So,' Baelish said, a purple feathered quill jumping into the air beside him and beginning to scribble on a notepad. Theon's eyes darted to it. 'Quick quotes quill,' the reporter said, waving absently at the frenzied scratching of the quill. 'Ignore it.'  
'So, Jon - may I call you Jon? Wonderful. So, Jon, tell me, have you found romance here at Hogwarts?'  
Snow stiffened and his head jerked up, his eyes meeting Baelish's for the first time.  
'What?' he growled.  
'Simple question,' the reporter's eyes darted to Theon and back to Snow. 'Have you met the love of your life while you take your Summer sojourn to the South?' He looked across at the quill for a moment. 'That was a good one, make sure you get that down.'

'What does that have to do with the competition?' Snow demanded.  
'Well it's not all about the competition, is it Jon? It's about the human interest. My readers want to know who the real Jon Snow is. Who's the man behind the muscles?'  
Jon gritted his teeth and said nothing. Baelish smiled a thin smile and changed track. 'You're ranked what - fifth in the world right now? How do you think a year away from training will affect your chances in the upcoming World Cup?'  
'Fourth,' Jon said through gritted teeth. 'And it won't affect them. I have a full pre-season training scheduled when the Tournament is over.'  
'Hmmm,' Baelish said absently. Theon glanced across at the quill to see that it was scribbling, _Snow seems unsure about his chances for success. He's so young - is it too young to handle this kind of pressure?_

He opened his mouth to say something - to point out the unfairness of the words, when Baelish turned his piercing stare on him. 'And you, Greyjoy, how do you respond to accusations that you cheated to gain entry into the competition?'  
Theon stared at him in shock, unsure what to say, but before he could think any further, Snow spoke up, 'Theon didn't cheat,' he growled, his tattoos angry jagged marks framing his eyes. Theon turned his stare on Snow, mouth falling open. He tried to think of something to say - even a thank you, but his mind was frozen.  
Snow glanced at him quicky and then looked away. The reporter watched both of them, then smiled slowly, and Theon was reminded of a cat, right before it pounced. ' Right, gentlemen, I think I have everything I need. Thank you for your time.' Then he was pushing them out the door and Theon heard him call to Daenerys, saying something about a famous ancestor. 

He didn't stop to listen, he just wanted to get out of there. He was out of the room and almost around the corner when he heard Snow's voice.  
'Hey, wait up.'  
Despite himself, he stopped, turning around slowly. Snow dropped from his light jog to a walk, running one hand through his black curls awkwardly. He reached Theon and looked down, kicking at the ground with one boot for a second. Then he looked up from under his lashes and Theon felt his heart thump traitorously at what those eyes did to him.  
'So,' Snow said softly, 'a couple of your Quidditch players were talking themselves up to Ygritte and Arya and now we're going to play a match against them this weekend ...' he trailed off and Theon grunted.  
'I heard. It was a bunch of the Hufflepuffs.'  
Jon shrugged like it didn't matter who.  
'So, I was, ah, wondering if you were coming. That is, coming to watch. The game.'  
Theon stared at him, sure that his shock must be written all over his face, then he felt a hint of anger flare.  
'Is _Margaery_ coming to watch the game?' he asked, with a lot more bitterness than he'd meant to reveal. Snow looked at him blankly.  
'Who?'  
Theon stared at him, incredulous. 'The chick you've been making out with all week?' he said, in a tone that said this was incredibly obvious.  
'Oh,' Snow said, looking away as a hint of a flush crept up his cheeks. Theon cursed himself for an idiot as he felt that twinge in his chest again.  
'Well I haven't told her about it,' Snow was saying, 'so I doubt it.' He looked back at Theon then and his gaze was so damned _earnest_ that he found himself saying, 'Yeah. I'll be there ... Probably.'  
Snow gave a little half smile and Theon felt his stomach flop. _Oh, I am so fucked_ , he thought as he turned away, headed for anywhere that wasn't here.


	10. Chapter 10

That Saturday dawned bright and clear. As Theon walked down to the Quidditch field, feeling strange to be traveling that familiar path again, he heard raised voices. He stepped into the stadium to see both teams facing off.  
‘Playing against a world standard seeker is hardly fair,’ Qotho said, eyeing Jon Snow where he leaned against the stands, firebolt slung over both shoulders, looking supremely bored.  
Theon followed his gaze and felt his stomach lurch at the lines of the man’s body. His gaze lingered ... he couldn't stop himself from looking, despite knowing that it would go nowhere, that Snow had his sights set on others. He always had been a sucker for punishment. Just holding a broom the man was beautiful. Watching Snow in flight might actually kill him. 

‘You scared?’ Ygritte asked with a smirk. ‘Looking for a way to back out?’ The game had been set up earlier in the week as Drogo had overheard some of the Durmstrang students talking about the Quidditch match they'd held one year in a blizzard. With Quidditch cancelled for the year due to the Tournament, everyone had jumped at the chance to get out on their brooms. Theon hadn't wanted to come and watch - despite Snow's invitation, he'd planned to spend the morning doing _anything_ else ... but in the end he'd given in to his own nagging thoughts, because he was sick of fighting his need to be around the other man. A voice broke his concentration.  
‘No,’ Drogo’s voice was loud and commanding. ‘My team backs away from nothing.’ His glower was impressive as he surveyed the Durmstrang team arrayed against his Hufflepuff one.  
‘He’s right though,’ Robb said, looking across at Jon, who met his eyes with a frown. ‘It’s not fair.’ Jon’s shoulders slumped and he let his broom drop from his shoulders.  
Despite himself, Theon’s heart tugged for him. He’d give anything to get up on a broom again and play, and to be able to and denied just because you were too good ...

‘What if we handicapped Jon?’ Arya piped up from the side lines.  
‘Handicapped, how?’ Robb asked suspiciously. Jon had paused and looked over at them as well, a hint of interest in his eyes he couldn’t hide.  
‘Put Theon on the broom with him.’  
‘What?’  
‘What?’  
Theon and Jon spoke together and looked across at each other. Theon didn’t know how his face looked, whether he was showing panic or longing, but Snow looked ... nervous.  
Arya grinned at him. ‘I can see you staring at the brooms like you want to make out with one from over here. You clearly want to play and I’m assuming you can’t -‘  
Theon flushed and crossed his arms, hiding his maimed hand with its glove on, from view.  
‘So, simple. Kill two birds with one stone. You get to fly. Jon gets to be a mere mortal for a game.’  
Theon looked across at Snow. He wanted to. Badly. The thought of speeding through the air again, the shouts of the game all around him ... then the realisation hit him that he’d be sitting right up behind Snow, arms around his waist, legs around -  
‘Okay.’  
Theon jerked his head up at Snow’s voice. The man wasn’t even looking at him. He had his eye on the box containing the quaffle, the bludgers and the snitch.

Problem solved, the others all mounted their brooms, but Theon stood, rooted to the spot. Everyone launched into the air except Robb, who stood by the box of balls, ready to release them. And Snow, who Theon realised with a start had turned a grumpy glare on him. When Theon met his eyes the other man jerked his head, indicating Theon should climb on. Theon hesitated a moment and then shrugged out of his school robes to save him having to hitch them up to his knees.  
Dressed in trousers and a shirt and tie, he walked over to Snow who stood, straddling his broom. Theon reached him and hesitated again before reaching out a tentative hand to the other man’s shoulder for balance as he swung a leg over. 

As soon as he had, Snow grunted, ‘hold on,’ and he kicked them off the ground. Theon was thrown back on the broom and he grabbed out wildly, wrapping both arms around Snow’s waist and pulling himself hard against the other man to stop himself from falling. 

They rose faster than he ever had before. Despite the additional weight on the firebolt, it sped up through the air. In seconds, they’d reached the top of the stands but Snow kept going, higher into the air, leaning hard against his broom for the climb. Theon threw his head back and gloried in the rush of the wind through his hair, the feeling of speed and weightlessness. They climbed and climbed until the game below them was just specks on the ground, then Snow glanced over his shoulder, a challenge in his dark eyes. Theon gulped, suddenly aware again of the body he was pressed so closely against. 

Snow seemed to smirk slightly, maybe mistaking his action for fear, and then he pulled his broom down into a steep dive, sending them plummeting back down to the ground. Theon leaned in hard against the man in front of him, stretching his body out almost on top of him and squinted against the wind rushing past his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good. He _whooped_ for joy as they sped through the air. As they reached the level of the stands again, Snow glanced back over his shoulder at Theon, surprise clear in his eyes at the excitement he saw on Theon’s face. Then he cracked the first real, full smile Theon had seen him give. Theon grinned back madly, unable to help himself. His heart lurched and he cursed himself for how far gone he was on this guy who was so far above him.  
Snow’s smile deepened and he shouted, ‘Hold on,’ again. Theon got the distinct impression he’d just passed some sort of test.

He wrapped his arms tighter around the man in front of him and Snow pulled his broom into a barrel roll that sent them spinning through the air, the ground and the sky flashing madly. Theon pushed everything else out of his head and laughed out loud at the fun of it. Then Snow straightened up and they pulled back up to the level of the game, flashing in and out of all the other players. Theon noted absently that Snow was just about the best flyer he’d ever seen in his life, but he couldn’t think much more beyond the joy of the flight.

The game was rushing madly around them, the quaffle moving furiously between both teams and the bludgers zinging through the air. Snow made a game of following one for a few moments, but he soon outstripped it. Gendry and Robb were the Durmstrang beaters and they hit the bludgers at Snow just as much as at the Hufflepuffs. It seemed this was pretty normal because Snow started calling out taunts to them as he dodged and span out of their way. Theon marvelled at the change in the man in front of him. 

On the ground he was surly, moody and arrogant by turns and barely wanted anything to do with people. In the air … he was fun, playful and full of life. Snow glanced back over his shoulder at that moment and his eyes sparkled with mischief, his cheeks glowing from the wind and his curly, black hair tousled. Theon suddenly wanted nothing more than to grab the man and kiss him. He flushed and looked away. Snow eyed him for a moment but then turned his eyes back to the game, pulling his broom up to soar over the top of the stadium, clearly now watching for the snitch.

Theon cursed his momentary slip. He tried to force his mind away from the strong, hard body in front of him, the thighs he could feel along the length of his own, the hard stomach muscles he could feel against his hands, the warm back he could feel against his chest. But it was no use. As thrilling as the flight was, all Theon could now think about was the man in front of him. He even smelled good, something fresh, like fir trees and a musky warmth that made Theon want to lean in closer and breathe him in, taste the warm skin with his mouth. 

He shuddered and wrenched his thoughts away. _No, no, no. Think about something horrible. Think about creepy Qyburn and those disgusting dead things he’s always feeling up._ But it was no use. Theon’s thoughts returned to Snow, hard against his chest. All he could think about was having the man laid out underneath him in bed, how he would look with his mouth red from Theon’s kisses, his hair mussed from Theon’s hands running through it. How he would sound when they - 

He shifted uncomfortably with a muttered curse. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ He could feel himself getting hard and suddenly he regretted the decision to leave his school robes on the ground. At least they would have given him some padding. As it was there was only a few thin layers of cloth between his cock, getting harder by the second, and Snow’s arse, wrapped in his tight, leather flying pants. Theon almost groaned out loud at the though of Snow’s arse, so close to him. His whole body was afire now, every single point at which he was touching the other man tingling.

He tried to loosen his grip and shuffle back a bit, to give them both some space, but as he did so, Snow looked over his shoulder again - Theon must be imagining it, were Snow’s eyes darker than normal? Did his lip look bitten? - and then brought them down into a sharp dive that had Theon sliding hard against his back. He hissed quietly as his cock rubbed, oh so nicely, against the other man. Snow dived and then levelled out, close to the ground.  
‘Thought I saw the snitch,’ he rasped, as he pulled the broom back to climb again. Theon glanced at him … Snow’s voice wasn’t that throaty - was it?

The game went on, second by torturous second. The Durmstrangs were in the lead 70 points to 60 and Theon became dimly aware that at some point, the stands had become full of students, cheering in turn as one of the players did something particularly daring. Theon wrenched his concentration away from the man in front of him to see that - as usual - Drogo and his beaters, Qotho and Haggo, had all taken their shirts off and were streaking around the pitch, drawing the biggest screams from the stands. They had their chests painted in streaks of Hufflpuff black and yellow. As they flew round the stands, he saw a flash of silver-bright hair and saw three or four of the Beauxbaton students watching the game - watching the shirtless riders, anyway.

Then he caught sight of Gendry and was surprised to see he’d pulled off his shirt as well. The tattoos wrapped around his chest and back and were swirling madly in fierce, violent patterns. The grin on the man’s face was vicious as he smashed a bludger at the Hufflepuff captain.

Theon wondered abruptly if Snow’s tattoos went all the way around his chest as well, and suddenly his whole concentration was drawn back to the man in his arms. He tightened his grip involuntarily and almost moaned when Snow shifted backwards slightly on his broom, pressing his arse hard against Theon’s aching cock. Theon’s hands slipped to the other man’s hips. He knew it wasn’t a safe grip but he was far beyond thinking about such things right now. His hands tightened on Snow and he rolled his hips forward slightly. This time he was sure he hadn’t imagined the bitten off sound coming from the man in front of him. Snow was flying a lot slower now, a circle around the top of the stands. Theon couldn’t see his face but he was sure the other man had been much more attentive earlier in the game. 

He spread his hands, unable to stop himself from touching … if Snow was willing to let him do this then he would take every second he could get. Margaery - and Ramsey - be damned! He edged his good hand under the corner of Snow’s shirt, laying it flat against the bare skin of the other man’s stomach. He could hear the hiss of breath that accompanied this and there was another grind backwards into him. Emboldened he scraped his finger nails gently over Snow’s skin, feeling the delicious ridges of muscle underneath his touch. He rolled his hips forward again, groaning at the perfect friction.

Then he yelped in surprise as Snow clamped down hard on his arm and dove his broom down to the ground, lying forward for speed. Just a few metres above the ground, he leaned forward, reaching out and snatched something from the air. Theon looked at him, dazed, and was amazed to see the tiny golden wings of the snitch beating in Snow’s fist. He’d all but forgotten they were playing. The other man brought his broom quickly down to the ground, let go of Theon’s arm abruptly and pulled the broom out from under them both the moment his feet touched the ground. 

Then, without even turning to look back at Theon, he threw the snitch to Robb, who’d seen the catch and come speeding down to the ground, and walked stiffly off the pitch, heading straight for the change room. Theon stared after him, gaping, confused by the sudden change of attitude. _What the fuck was going on? He had been into it, hadn’t he?_ Theon felt confusion and shame burning through him and Bolton's words from earlier in the week flashed back into his mind - _You slutting yourself around after Jon Snow is getting ridiculous, don't you think? He's clearly got better taste than the likes of you._ Had he misunderstood everything? Had Snow just wanted to get rid of him, because he was rubbing himself all over the man like a -  
Robb landed next to him with a grin.  
‘Have fun?’  
Theon nodded without really hearing him, still staring after Snow, body still hot and throbbing, mind in turmoil.  
Robb smirked, ‘You might want to - ah - put your robes back on at the very least.’  
Theon came back to himself with a start, flushing a deep red, and hurried off to the change rooms. It didn’t escape him that he was walking just as stiffly as Snow had been. 

\----

He needed a shower. He needed to cool off, or get himself off. Both probably. He entered the Gryffindor change rooms as a force of habit. It had been six months now since he'd lost his fingers - lost his place on the team as chaser, but as he walked through the door, the sights and smells brought bittersweet memories flooding back. He'd been a jerk when he was first recruited. A cocky jerk who thought that if he couldn't play for Slytherin, he may as well play for Gryffindor. Eighteen months of being on the team and he'd felt, finally, like he had a place to belong, somewhere he could be himself ... _and then Bolton took that away from me too_ , he thought darkly. 

A soft sound from in one of the cubicles brought him out of his memories and he glanced across. The sound came again, a breathy, bitten-off moan, as though someone was -  
Suddenly all the heat and need of the flight came rushing back and he felt his cock throb, hard and heavy in his pants. He palmed himself gently through the material and took a silent step closer, and then another, knowing he shouldn't, knowing it was wrong, but unable to help himself.  
_It couldn't be ..._ He hadn't paid any attention to which team's rooms Snow entered, and the thought that this might be him, that that sound might be him, getting himself off after having Theon riding behind him ... He felt a hot stab of desire run through him and he bit his lip as he cupped himself more firmly, taking a final few steps into the cubicle next door to the one that quiet, panting breathing was now coming from. 

Silently, he pushed the door shut, twisting the lock slowly into place. There was a 'thud' on the wall closest to him and Theon realised Snow must have put his hand against it to brace himself as he fucked into his own fist. Theon's cock was throbbing in his pants and he felt pre come leaking from himself at the image that put in his mind. He could hear the movement of fabric and rhythmic motion. He imagined being on his knees in front of the man, mouth wrapped around his cock, licking and sucking him. He squeezed his eyes shut, slipping a hand into his pants and biting into his cheeks to stop the moan that wanted to tear itself from his lips.

From the other side of the wall the sounds sped up and there was a gasped, sobbing breath, then a grunted, 'Fuck'. Theon squeezed himself hard, almost coming himself at the thought of what that meant, at the idea of Snow coming right there, at the images of what he must look like. At how much Theon wanted to be the one making him come.

A moment later, he heard the door swing open and, unable to help himself, he peered through the crack in his own. He saw dark curls and lazily swirling tattoos as Jon Snow stepped from the cubicle and flicked a tap on, rinsing his hands. Then he ran his still wet hands through his hair, straightening up, and Theon caught a glimpse of him in the mirror. He had to bite his lip to stifle his moan. Snow looked _gorgeous_. He face was flushed and his eyes were heavy lidded. With his hair all tousled he looked like he'd just climbed out of bed after a particularly good fuck. He was still breathing heavily but something about his face looked more relaxed than Theon had seen it before.

Then Snow turned from the mirror and disappeared around the corner. A moment later, Theon heard the shower start up. Theon pulled his cock out fully and spat messily into his hand. He didn't worry about finesse, he just pumped it hard and fast, remembering Snow's body against his, the smell of him, the sounds he'd made as he -  
With a groan he spent, grabbing some paper clumsily to catch it and he breathed raggedly, hunched over slightly as he recovered himself.

When his head cleared he felt a mixture of contentment, shame and confusion fill him, and he slipped out of the stall to wash his hands. He shouldn't have done that. It was creepy. Like stalker creepy. But then he remembered the sounds, the movement of skin on skin, the moans and he felt himself flush again. He couldn't have stopped himself, and he'd do it again, he knew … but the thought that Snow might have been jerking it for him … because he'd been on the broom, grinding against him. Surely not. Theon shook his head, looking at himself in the mirror, seeing sandy hair, pale eyes and a skinny, sleepless look. Snow didn’t want him, not when he had his pick. And besides, as he'd demonstrated with Margaery, he had no issues with going after what he wanted, so if it was Theon, surely he would have made a move, not run away to the change rooms to take care of himself?

At that moment the sound of the water shut off and Theon came back to himself with a start. No matter what had been on Snow's mind, Theon knew he didn't want the man finding him here when he stepped out of the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love your thoughts on how you're finding the J and T progression :)
> 
> I'm working on a long game


	11. Chapter 11

Theon was at the library early the next morning. He was so behind on so many classes. It didn't matter that the sun was shining brightly outside or that this would probably be one of the few nice days they had left in the year - he had catch up to do. Serious catch up. He was hidden behind a precarious stack of books on history, burns healing and one called _Cephalopod Communication - Fact or Fantasy?_ \- okay that one was for fun … if he had time for it - when he heard a familiar voice.  
'So wait, your _dad_ is the History teacher? He seems … cool.'  
There was a soft laugh then another female voice said, 'He's really not, you don't have to be kind about it. But he does know lots of things.' Theon peered around from his pile of books to see Arya and another girl - Shirelle? Chanel? Shireen. That was it - Shireen Baratheon - walking towards them. Arya glanced up and spotted him,  
'Squid boy! A nerd as well, I see.'  
Theon scowled at her, regretting looking across, 'I'm busy,' he said, giving a small smile to Shireen, who smiled back shyly. From what Theon remembered, she didn't have many friends. He'd heard that a spell had gone wrong when she was a child, leaving her with grey scales speckled across half her face and down her neck ... Plus her dad kind of sucked. It meant she definitely wasn't considered one of the popular crowd.

'Not too busy to help out a few fourth years, I'm sure. Isn't that what you oldies are supposed to do? Mentor us and all that,' Arya said as she pushed a pile of books aside to make room for the two of them, plonking herself down into a chair. She made a movement indicating Shireen should sit as well, but the other girl hesitated for a moment, glancing at Theon before doing so. He sighed in resignation and said, 'Go ahead, make yourselves at home. What do you need help with?'  
'What? Oh, nothing,' Arya said, looking up from the copy of _Cephalapod Communication_ with a quirked eyebrow. 'Really, squid boy? I _knew_ your totem would be a kraken or something - oh that would look so cool all wrapped around your shoulder and twisting down your arms! You should totally come up North and get it done,' she enthused.  
'My what?' Theon asked, still just as lost as when he'd first heard her mention the word.

'Your totem,' Arya said, indicating the marks on her face and running down her arms. They sparked playfully at her acknowledgement of them, making Theon think of a wiggling puppy. Arya turned to Shireen, 'This is what we were talking about the other day. I still think you'd be given something awesome, maybe a dragon.'  
Shireen lifted one hand to touch her own face gently, almost unconsciously.  
Arya looked back at Theon, who was sure his face still showed blank confusion, 'It's like a … rite of passage I guess, like a coming of age thing. But only the best can get them. Only the best can be chosen by an animal to share its spirit.' She almost preened as she spoke.  
Theon looked at her, then down at the tattoos, realising for the first time that they were more than mere decoration. 'But you all have them?'  
Arya rolled her eyes at him, 'Well duh. We're the best Durmstrang had to offer for the competition.'  
Theon felt dumb, that made sense, but then a bigger question occurred to him, 'Wait, what do you mean share an animal's spirit? You mean you've got part of a wolf in you? Do you like, eat it or something?'

Arya looked at him for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing so hard the librarian - Mr Luwin - looked over with a disapproving frown. Shireen elbowed Arya and tilted her head with a small smile at the man, and Arya took a few deep breaths, controlling herself.  
'You Southerners are so _weird_ ,' she said at last.  
Theon stared at her, nonplussed. 'You can talk,' he said and she poked her tongue out at him.  
'Anyway,' Arya continued. 'It's a ritual we can do when we turn seventeen, if we want to. You go out into the Godswood - if you're unlucky enough to be Jon you do it in a snow storm - and you pray in front of the Weirwood and if you're strong enough and brave enough and good enough, a spirit visits. And,' she indicated her marks again, 'these appear. Next minute,' she shrugged, 'you're stronger or faster, or have better vision or whatever. It's pretty much the best.'

Theon looked at her, mind reeling, then he caught on one thing, 'Wait you just said you had to be seventeen.' The question was obvious as he eyed her.  
She smirked, 'You have to be seventeen or you have to be me. I got sick of waiting so I snuck out and had my own vigil. And it worked. Mum and Dad were super mad, but,' she shrugged again. Theon had the distinct impression that Arya was a law unto herself. He realised with a stab that he admired her confidence.  
Then another thought occurred to him, 'Why do they move?' He was thinking of her brother's marks, the way he'd seen them so agitated, so often.

Arya thought about that for a moment. 'It's different for different people, I think. Sometimes the animal spirit is stronger - like more of it comes into you, and it can be harder to control. Like wolf spirits - they make us want to defend or bond sometimes. Pack is a big thing for wolves you know. The marks are like a - a manifestation of the animal and if we get angry or scared or whatever, the animal can respond to that too.'  
She looked down at her own arm where thick black lines were softly undulating and she rubbed over them gently. 'Some people find it easier to control their marks than others. _Some people_ ,' she said making a face, 'wouldn't show so much through their marks if they'd just smile once in a while.'  
Theon knew suddenly that she was thinking of her brother, and changed the subject. 'Well if you're going to stick around, you may as well make yourselves useful. What do you know about the War of the Five Kings?'  
Arya frowned and groaned loudly but Shireen's face lit up and she leaned in, 'Oh, I know all about it. It all started when a boy was thrown from a tower …'

\-----

It was late afternoon when Robb poked his head around the pile of books and parchment.  
'You _are_ still here. Arya told me she saw you in the library this morning. You should come outside with us, get a bit of fresh air.'  
Theon groaned and stretched, straightening up in his chair, feeling his back give a series of pops as he did. He looked up at Robb's hopeful face, then back down at his books. He'd managed to do all his reading but he still had about a foot to go on his history paper and he hadn't even started Tyrell's Transfiguration one.  
Robb sensed his hesitation and leaned in, 'C'mon, man. I'm sure your brain's all mushy by now. Come outside into the sun for a while. Just an hour. Then you can get back to it.'

Theon smiled. He _was_ getting a bit cross-eyed. 'Fine, but I do have to come back in later.' Robb nodded and helped him to pack his books into his bag, then they walked side by side out of the library and down through the castle, Robb telling him about his latest plan to woo the lady Healer.  
'So, I figured, what if I got Tormund or someone to break my arm?'  
Theon looked at him, blanching slightly. 'That seems … extreme,' he said, eyeing the other man. Robb seemed unphased so Theon changed track. 'Won't she just think you're clumsy?' Robb frowned so Theon pushed on. 'Besides, the potion for breaks works really quickly.' The feeling of his fingers snapping back into place echoed through him with a shadow of old agony. 'You'd be in and out.'

Robb sighed, 'Good call. I'll keep thinking. Look, there's everyone.' He indicated out over the lawns where a group of people were sprawled in the shade of a big oak tree.  
As they made their way across, Theon's heart clenched to see Snow lying on the ground, knees up, one arm thrown over his eyes. He looked like he was sleeping. Theon couldn't decide if he was happy about that or not. They hadn't spoken since the flight the day before … since the change rooms afterwards.  
Gendry looked up from where he was reclining against his bag, 'Hey, Greyjoy.'  
Ygritte and Tormund looked up as well from where they were sitting side by side against the tree, each one had a small knife out and was whittling something from wood. From the speed they were working, Theon wondered if it was a competition. Or maybe they just did it a lot.

Theon waved to everyone and lowered himself to the grass, thinking how much nicer it was outside, with the gentle breeze flowing around them. Robb sat beside him and Gendry levered himself into a more upright position.  
'Dude, I need to pick your brain.'  
As one, Robb, Ygritte and Tormund groaned. 'Seriously Waters, give it a rest,' Ygritte said.  
Gendry ignored the lot of them, focussing on Theon. 'The Hufflepuff keeper. From yesterday. What's his name? What do you know about him?' he demanded eagerly.  
Theon looked at him with confusion, 'Pod?'

Ygritte snorted, 'His name is Pod? See, he's probably a giant nerd, Gen. Forget about him.'  
Theon looked between them in confusion, but Gendry waved at him to keep talking. 'Uh - his name is Podrick Payne. He's in Hufflepuff, obviously. He's a sixth year, like us. Um, he's nice I guess. I don't have much to do with him. He's pretty shy, keeps to himself. A bit clumsy. Umm, loves Herbology.' He shrugged, eyeing Gendry. 'Why?'

'I'm in _love_ ,' Genrdry sighed dramatically, but his smirk and laughing eyes gave him away.  
Ygritte snorted again. 'No you're not. You just perved on him in the showers, saw that he had a massive cock and now you want to bone him.' Theon flushed slightly at the idea of watching people in the showers, but neither of them was paying any attention to him.  
'Not true!' Gendry declared. 'I want _him_ to bone _me_.' He dropped back to his back in the grass, spreading his arms wide. 'You should have seen it. It was magnificent.'  
Theon laughed as Ygritte flicked a piece of wood at Gendry, hitting him in the side of the head, 'Oh what, just 'cos you're not getting any!' he sniped at her.

'I could if I wanted,' she declared loftily. 'Not my fault none of these Southerners meet my idea of what a man should be.' As she spoke her eyes flicked quickly to Snow's prone form, then away again. Theon frowned slightly as he saw it, but it was forgotten as Robb said, 'Children, the lot of you. You need to help me focus on how to win a real woman.'

The groans rippled around the circle again and Ygritte wasn't the only one who threw something at Robb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look @erihan, Arya found a friend!
> 
> If anyone is wondering what the Pod appeal is, [check out this pic](https://goo.gl/images/JQwVjs)  
> Dude is HoTT. Also, Pod makes a good Neville ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First week back at work was a killer but Friday night is writing night, so here's the next bit :)

Theon went down to breakfast on Monday morning, feeling happy for a change. He kept replaying Snow's small smile as he'd left the group the day before. It was friendly and comfortable and Theon just felt _good_ about being around him. His cheery feeling maintained as he took his usual seat between Gendry and Tormund and across from Robb and Snow. He snuck little glances at the other man as he helped himself to toast, bacon, eggs and kippers. Gendry turned up his nose at them.  
'They look like someone's pet.'  
Theon stuck his tongue out at him and settled into a comfortable silence, listening to the chatter flowing around him in the Hall. He didn't have any idea where Bolton was, and right at that moment he didn’t care.

There was a flurry of noise around the Great Hall as the post owls entered bearing packages and letters and the Monday paper. Theon paid them no mind. The only mail he ever got was an occasional postcard from Asha if she'd stopped somewhere she'd thought he'd find interesting. He looked up, however, when he heard his name muttered a few seats down from him, and then again at the Hufflepuff table behind him. As he looked up he realised a number of eyes were focussed on him and his stomach lurched with that sick, anxious feeling that had been his constant companion for most of the last year. He glanced around, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. The stares weren't hostile, just … curious. But he didn’t like the attention.

Then Robb reached down and grabbed a paper that was lying unattended next to one of the other students. He pushed some plates aside and spread it flat on the table in front of them all. Theon's eye was caught by the large photo taking up most of the front page. Snow was glaring out of it, looking like he was ready to murder someone. His tattoos were swirling with agitation. Daenerys was smiling serenely, like she had some knowledge that no one else held. Every now and again one eyebrow would arch as she gazed coolly out of the photograph. Bolton had removed his hand from Snow's shoulder and had his arms crossed. He had a sleek smile plastered over his face but Theon could see the anger simmering in his eyes.

Theon's eyes moved to his own image and he swallowed heavily. His portrait still had its hand on Snow's shoulder and as he watched it smiled, a weak, anxious-looking smile, then glanced down at Snow, fingers tightening on his shoulder, gaze lingering too long. Then he looked up again and smiled that same, uncertain smile, before looking back at Snow.

Across the top of the page was blazoned the heading _EXCLUSIVE: QUIDDITCH STAR TAKES HIS EYE OFF THE TRIWIZARD CUP_  
Robb laughed and began to read the by line out loud in a pompous, dramatised voice, _Intrepid reporter, Petyr Baelish this week visited Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he discovered that all was not as it seems with the Triwizard Champions.  
Of all the Champions (see caption for details), it seems most obvious that Jon Snow, world famous seeker for the Winterfell Warriors, ranked fourth in the world, youngest of his age to reach these heights, would have been chosen for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Yet, when I talked to young Jon, he seemed nervous, unsure of himself and in need of reassurance. One might wonder what a young man, all alone, might do to find comfort in tough times._

 _Our Champion is not hard on the eyes - his brooding Northern good looks and his luxurious black curls, which just beg you to run your fingers through them -'_ Robb broke off at this point, unable to contain his howls of laughter any longer. All those around him joined in, and even Theon smiled, although he was annoyed on Snow's behalf that the reporter had already skewed his words about his approach to the Tournament. Snow was glaring daggers at his brother and reached out for the paper. Robb pulled it out of his reach, reading again.

'Where was I, oh yes, your luxurious hair,' he snorted again. ' _… mean that Jon has no trouble finding a young woman … or man … to keep him company and look after his more 'physical' requirements. I asked around the castle to see if young Snow has found love while here at Hogwarts._  
_'Oh yes, we're going steady,' Margaery Tyrell told me, twirling golden ringlets around her fingers and popping gum in my face. 'It was love at first sight. Definitely.'_  
_It’s easy to see why Margaery, with her fantastic family connections, Ravenclaw smarts and myriad other … assets … might catch our Champion's eye, though he seems to have caught the eye of one of our other Champions, if I'm not wrong. And I never am about these things. My interview with the accidental champion - Theon Greyjoy -_ ' Abruptly Robb stopped reading, folding the paper in half and tucking it out of sight.

'Stupid paper anyway. Load of rubbish article,' he muttered, throwing Theon a quick grin. Snow looked at his brother and then glanced across at Theon, eyebrows drawn down in confusion.  
'What does it say, Robb?' he demanded.  
'Ah - nothing. Just rubbish. Stuff about Theon. He's just casting for a story. Make anything up, that lot,' Robb glanced across at Theon, who caught the lifeline thrown to him.  
'That's right,' he said, with a weak laugh making Snow's eyes snap back across to him. 'Whatever it is can't be true. He only spoke to me for a second. It's rubbish.'  
Snow eyed him, then looked around at the others. He opened his mouth as if to argue again, a frown on his face, when he was interrupted.

Margaery had made her way over to their table, hips moving a lot more than Theon though was really necessary. Her usual posse of beautiful people trailed behind her. She draped herself over Snow's shoulders from behind him, nipping lightly at his ear. Theon thought he saw the annoyance on Snow's face deepen, but it cleared before he could be sure.  
'Hey lover,' she murmured throatily, eyes flicking down to the copy of the _Prophet_ on the table in front of him. Theon was sure this time that he could see anger on her face. But she drew her head close to Snow's again to nuzzle at his neck, whispering something in his ear as she ran one hand through his hair. Theon felt a shock run through him when her eyes darted up to meet his momentarily. Her look was possessive and smug and suddenly Theon wanted very much to read the rest of that article.

Then Snow murmured something back to her and he only caught one word of it.  
'Tonight.'  
He wondered what it meant. He didn’t want to know what it meant. He dropped his eyes to his plate, eyeing off the cold breakfast that he no longer had any appetite for.

\-----

He tried to keep his mind away from the exchange he'd witnessed over breakfast, tried to focus on his lessons and not on what it was that Snow and Margaery might be doing that night, but his eyes kept returning to the other man. Professor Tyrell had her back to the class, explaining a complex magical principal that was supposed to enable them to begin to transition into silent incantations, when Theon felt something hit him in the side of the head and bounce down to the desk. He glanced up quickly to see Bolton, Myranda and Locke all grinning back up at him from the front of the class. He looked away and down at the thing on the table in front of him.

Whatever it was that was making them grin couldn't be good for him. He knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. The small object was wrapped in what looked like a piece of newspaper and immediately, Theon knew what it would be. He unrolled the article from the _Daily Prophet_ that morning and a small, metallic item rolled out. It didn't blow up on him so he ignored it for a moment, scanning through the article.  
_'My interview with the accidental champion - Theon Greyjoy - revealed a level of cunning we've come to expect from the Greyjoy family. If he was smart enough to trick his way into the Tournament, is he smart enough to trick his way into the affections of poor Jon Snow, far from home and in need of comfort? Only time will tell. But, ladies and gentlemen, as they say, a picture tells a thousand words._ '

Theon glanced back at the image of the four of them again, seeing his portrait staring intensely down at Snow, hand tightening on his shoulder. He screwed the article into a ball and shoved it in his pocket, feeling a surge of embarrassment run through him. So now the entire Wizarding world knew he had a crush on Snow, but thought that he was faking it so he could sabotage the man's chances in the Tournament. _Great. Just fucking great_.

His eye was drawn back to the round metallic item on the desk in front of him and he flipped it over, then blanched. The badge flashed up at him in lurid red and green. _GREYJOY REEKS_. Face flushing at the name and the remembered humiliation he carried with it, his eyes darted back to the front of the room. The three Slytherins were still watching him, identical expressions of malicious glee on their faces. He realised with a sick jolt that each of them had a badge flashing on their chest, the red and green pulses drawing the eye.

He shoved the one he held deep into his pocket and dropped his gaze to his parchment, trying to filter out the article, the badge, Bolton and his cronies. Even Snow. He couldn't think about all this now. He just couldn't.  
Later, maybe, when he was alone and he could rage and cry and smash things just for the fucking _unfairness_ of it all. _Why me?_ he thought for the thousandth time. _What did I ever do to deserve this? To deserve any of it?_ He let his head hit the desk with a thump and picked up his quill. _Later_. 

\------

Now that he knew about the badges, he saw them everywhere. Most of the Slytherins were wearing them, which was what he'd expected, but it stung when he saw a group of Ravenclaw fifth and sixth years wearing them. Margaery looked over from their midst and her smile was cold. He looked away first, putting his head down and hurrying on to his next class.

He pushed through the rest of the day, the increasing whispers as the damned article made its way around the school and everyone began speculating and laughing and gossiping. It was like last time … but in some ways not as bad. He avoided the badges wherever he could, and avoided Gendry's concerned questions about what they meant. There wasn't a chance in hell he was going to explain that. 

Snow … he didn't have to avoid Snow. The man was absent. That kicked him in the guts too, but he pushed the feeling away. Snow wasn't his. He never would be.

He went to bed early that night, pulling the hangings closed around the four poster bed and curling in on himself in the dark. He hurt. He hurt deep inside and he just wanted it to stop.

\------

The next morning he knew something was different. He knew it as soon as he stepped into the corridor outside the portrait hole. The whispers were travelling up and down like wildfire as students hurried to their first class of the day.  
'Did you hear?'  
'Five times I heard!'  
'No!'  
'Yep. Every way she said. Best she's ever had.'  
'Not surprising. I mean look at him. He'd be an animal in bed for sure.'

With a pain that felt like a kick in the chest, Theon realised what the gossip was all about. Margaery had clearly got what she wanted, and hadn't hesitated to tell the whole castle every tiny detail. He felt sick to think about it. To imagine them … He pushed the thought away. He pushed every thought he'd ever had of Jon Snow away. _He doesn't want me. He'll never want me._ He was sick of being pathetic. Being the laughing stock. Being unwanted. _Fuck him. Fuck the lot of them_.

He gritted his teeth, raised his head and made his way to his first class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon's got a little bit of his bite back ...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with rape/non con. It's not explicit but might be triggering.

He woke Wednesday morning feeling as though he had a hangover and it took him a moment to figure out why he felt so bad. When he did, when the memories of the day before came rushing back - hearing detailed accounts of just how good a fuck Jon Snow was all day long - he felt the sick disappointment hit him again.  
'Harden the fuck up, Greyjoy,' he muttered to himself as he pulled back his covers and slipped out of bed. He skipped breakfast, opting as he usually did to shower when everyone else was occupied in the Great Hall, and was waiting at the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom when Professor Lannister arrived. He heard the man's slow, stumping progress down the corridor before he saw him.

The scarred Professor stopped in front of the door, looking Theon up and down, his magical blue eye swivelling and twisting. Theon shivered slightly under its regard, getting the feeling it was seeing much more than he wanted it to. But the Professor didn't say anything except, 'Good morning Mr Greyjoy. Nice and prompt, I see. You're either a model student or you're trying to avoid everyone else in the castle. Either way, come in.'  
Theon flushed and stepped into the room behind Professor Lannister. He took a seat near the front of the room and took out his books. 'Oh, you won't need those,' his teacher said, looking across from where he was coaxing a raven out of a cage with a piece of meat. 'I prefer a more … practical approach in my classes.'  
Theon raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything and moments later students began to file into the room and take their seats. To Theon's surprise, Podrick Payne took a seat beside him in the front row.  
'Hey, Greyjoy,' he smiled shyly. 'Was good to see you on a broom again over the weekend. I used to enjoy playing against you.'  
Theon stared at him, unsure what to say. He'd never paid much attention to Pod before. He tended to be one of the ones that copped a hard time from the Slytherin crowd and when Theon had been one of them, he'd been oblivious … until he'd taken Pod's place as the latest sport.

A kick in the back of his chair broke his chain of thought and he looked over his shoulder to see Gendry sitting behind him, eyebrows raised as he nodded his head suggestively towards Pod, who hadn't turned around, and was getting his books out.  
Theon gave him a questioning look and Gendry rolled his eyes, _Introduce me_ , he mouthed silently. Theon sighed and leaned over to Pod.  
'Hey, ah Pod. Have you met Gendry?' he said, indicating the man behind him. Pod and Theon both turned around to see Gendry leaning back on his chair, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, putting his muscled arms on full display. Gendry smiled, a confident smile that had just a hint too much teeth in it. He looked _hungry_. Theon couldn't help the hint of laughter that came into his voice, 'He's from Durmstrang. You played against him on the weekend.' He wanted to add, _He watched you in the showers like a giant creeper_ , but managed to restrain himself.

Gendry leaned forward onto his elbows, laying his forearms on the desk. Theon eyed him, getting the feeling he was subtly flexing again. 'You're a brilliant keeper,' Gendry said, looking Pod straight in the eyes. ' You saved a fantastic goal from Ygritte. There's no way I would have been able to stretch that far. You must be really flexible.'  
Theon had to bite his cheek to hold in the snort and he turned back around, pretty sure from the confused look on Pod's face and the satisfied one on Gendry's, that his role had been fulfilled.

A moment later the Professor's voice broke through the quiet murmuring around the room.  
'My name is Tyrion Lannister,' he said, his voice ringing out across the room. 'Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.' He was standing atop a small box and as he spoke his eyes travelled across the room, pinning each student in turn. The piercing green one was just as disturbing as the swirling blue one, which never stayed still for more than a few seconds.  
'Books away, the lot of you,' he directed, 'I'm here because my dear Lord Father couldn't find anyone else to fill the post and in his desperation, turned to me. But you can be sure that while I'm here I'll be putting my time to good use.' He paused for a moment, reaching one hand into his overcoat and pulling out a small, ornamental bottle. He flipped the cap off it and took a deep swallow before closing it and slipping it back into his pocket. All eyes followed him, but no one said anything.

'Now, there are a lot of things in the world that are a lot less nice than the safe little lifestyle you have for yourselves here in the castle. There is _darkness_ out there and my job is to teach you to defend against it. My job is to teach you. Constant. Vigilance.' He barked the last two words and more than a few people jumped.  
'So, we're going to start with the worst of the worst. We're going to start with something the Ministry doesn’t want you knowing about.' The curl of his lip made it very clear just what Professor Lannister thought of the Ministry.

'Unforgivable curses,' he barked. 'What are they?'  
Theon felt his heart thump in his chest at the words and he snuck a glance around the room. Everyone was staring at the Professor in awed silence. To Theon's surprise, Ygritte raised her hand.  
'Yes.'  
'They're called Unforgivable's because they're the worst thing one wizard can do to another,' her face clouded as she spoke. 'Any bastard that uses one deserves every second he gets in Azkaban.'  
Professor Lannister considered her for a moment, both eyes studying the red-headed woman, whose fox tattoos were currently giving her the appearance of snarling savagery.  
'Quite right, lass,' he said, voice quieter now. 'You're of the Free Folk?'  
She nodded. A short, sharp movement.  
'A shameful time, the purges. What was done. The use of the Unforgivable Curses. A shameful time.'

Then his eyes shot up to the rest of the class. 'But you need to know these curses. Being ignorant won't make you any less dead.'  
He reached over to the raven that he'd coaxed out of its cage before and encouraged it up onto his fingers, stroking it softly and murmuring to it.  
'Who can name one for me? You, Greenhands.'  
The curly haired boy half way down the room gulped audibly before he said, 'There's the - the Imperius. Sir.'  
'Quite right, lad. The Imperius Curse has been used by many a dark wizard or witch to make others do their bidding.' He pulled his wand out of its holster at his chest and directed it at the bird on his arm saying, 'Imperio.'  
The raven immediately flew onto the desk in front of Theon and began dancing, skipping its legs back and forth and bobbing its head. Laughter broke out around the room. But Theon couldn't take his eyes off the bird. He felt sick. He watched it and he heard the words whispered in his mind. He could feel his breathing coming faster and he gripped the edge of the desk with knuckles gone white.

Then the bird flapped off the desk and began flying around the room in big loops, turning into smaller ones and slipping down occasionally to grab something from one of the students desks. There were great shouts of laughter around the room now.  
'Funny, isn't it,' the scarred and bent man at the front of the room said, raising his voice to be heard. 'What if I tell him to fly at one of you and peck out your eye?' He asked, voice gone cold as he waved his wand and the bird dove at Lommy Greenhands, pulling back just before it made contact. Lommy's hands flew up to cover his head as he cowered.  
'Or perhaps I could tell it to fly at the window and keep flying at it until it beats itself to bloody death.' The bird flew full speed at the glass and there were small screams of horror around the room. It pulled up just in time and returned to the Professor's arm. Theon watched it, wanting it to end. Needing it to end.  
The room was silent as the Professor looked out over it. 'The Imperius Curse can make anyone do anything. You could be directed to walk up to your own mother and cut her throat and no one would realise it had not been you acting the whole time. It's no laughing matter.'

'Next,' he said. But the room was silent.  
Then a shaky hand was raised next to Theon. 'There's - one's called the Cruciatus,' Pod said softly. Theon let out a low moan, which he couldn't have kept in if he tried. He bit his lip. He didn't want to see this. He wished he could stopper his ears. His whole body began to ache.  
'Ah, yes,' the Professor said softly. 'Your last name's Payne isn't it. Uncle called Illyn?' At Podrick's small nod and downcast eyes, Professor Lannister smiled darkly. 'Yes, you would know about this one.'  
He pointed his wand at the bird again and said, 'Crucio.'  
Instantly it fell backwards off his arm and onto the desk behind him, cawing loudly and convulsing. It thrashed and cawed, its voice hoarse and clearly wracked with pain.  
The Professor looked out over the class, mismatched eyes taking in everything as he directed his wand over the tortured animal. The sound of its flapping wings, its scrabbling feet and its squawking cries seemed to reverberate louder and louder in Theon's ears as he watched it. His vision narrowed down to a tunnel as he observed its agony. He could hear a voice - his own? - screaming _Stop. Please stop. Pleasepleaseplease_.

He felt a light touch on his arm and he came back to himself to see that the bird was lying on the desk, wings spread as it panted. He pushed away his memories. Pushed away the ache and the fear. He didn’t know who had touched him, but he realised with relief that he hadn’t spoken out loud. Everyone was staring in fearful silence at the front of the room where Professor Lannister was clearly expecting to be told what the final curse was.  
Finally it was spoken in a low, broken voice from behind him. 'Avada Kedavra,' Ygritte said, voice choked.  
'Indeed,' Professor Lannister said, directing his wand at the bird. There was a flash of green light as he said the words and then the raven fell back to the desk, eyes glassy and vacant. 'The killing curse.'

There wasn't a hint of movement or sound from any of the students and the Professor looked up from the bird on the desk to address the class again. 'Now you know. But knowing is not enough. Do you have the fortitude to break through one of these curses? Not many do. But if you can feel it in advance … if you can fight against it before you're fighting for your life … maybe you'll have a chance.'  
He looked over the room and Theon felt his breathing hitch. _He couldn't be suggesting. Surely not. Surely-_  
'Right, up out of your seats. Form a group at the front of the room. I'll want a volunteer to start, but you'll all be taking a turn.' Theon felt a cold shock run though him with those words and he struggled to control the urge to turn and run from the room. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, almost stumbling as he stepped forward. He made sure he stayed at the back of the group. He couldn't do this. He couldn't let someone - couldn't agree to -  
Ygritte raised her hand, a look of determination on her face. The Professor gave her a nod of approval and raised his wand, 'Imperio,' he muttered, eyes cold with concentration.

Ygritte turned and lifted her hands above her head, pointing her toes and kicking one leg out to the side. As she began to dance the ballet, no one laughed. Her eyes had a slightly vacant look, but as Theon watched her, he realised for the first time just how hard it was to tell someone had been cursed like this. That thought only added to the panicked memories that were threatening to overwhelm him.  
He could hear the Professor explaining how the curse could be fought as he released Ygritte and took another student forward, but he couldn’t focus on any of the words. All he could imagine was feeling that feeling. Being made to do things he didn't want to do. Screaming inside his own head. _I can't. I can't. Ican'tIcan'tIcan't_.

He dimly registered that someone was speaking through the rising tide of panic.  
'Professor. Excuse me, Professor. I'm not feeling well. I need to go to the hospital wing.' The answer was a quick grunt of, 'If you must.'  
'Sir, I don't know the way. Can Theon show me?'  
Theon didn't hear any answer this time, but it must have been an affirmative, because he felt his arm grabbed a moment later as he was pulled out of the group and into the corridor outside.

He couldn't focus on what was going on. Couldn't think. Couldn't draw breath properly over the fear that choked his chest. He followed blindly, the hand not letting go of his arm, pulling him through passages and down stairs. He heard murmured words, 'It's okay Theon. You're going to be alright. Just breathe okay.' He drew comfort from the voice, from its calmness and steadiness. He tried to push away the memories that kept forcing themselves back in front of his eyes.  
He registered briefly through the fog of confusion that they were moving away from the Hospital Wing. They were travelling down and out of the castle. With the first breath of fresh air, he felt his panic recede slightly. As they moved further and further from the castle and he could feel the space around himself - no longer felt trapped - he felt himself relax more and more, his heartbeat slowing and his breathing coming easier. He realised he'd been trembling and forced his body to calm.

'How are you feeling now?' came the voice beside him, as they reached the vast waters of the Black Lake.  
Theon looked over, registering for the first time just who it was standing beside him. As their eyes met, Jon Snow dropped his hand from Theon's arm, but the look of concern in his eyes didn’t fade.  
'I - I'm fine,' he lied through a jaw that ached with tension. He looked down and away, feeling shame flood through him that Snow had seen him like this, had seen his weakness.  
Snow reached out to him again, but dropped his hand back to his side before he made contact. He gestured awkwardly at the stony beach. 'Do you want to just sit for a bit?'  
Theon hesitated a moment - then nodded. He didn’t really want to be around the man right now … but the idea of being alone was worse. He slumped to the stones and drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight and drawing deep breaths. He rested his forehead on his knees and heard Snow drop down beside him.

'Do you … do you want to talk about it?' came the soft voice - almost hesitant.  
Theon shook his head, not looking up. He could hear the soft lapping of the water against the stones and it soothed him. He focussed on the sound and tried to drown out the memories of the raven's cries … and worse memories.  
'Someone - Theon - someone hurt you really bad, didn’t they? Will you tell me about it. Please?' Snow's voice was almost pleading and Theon raised his head, looking across at him. He felt confusion break through the panic and fear and shame.  
'Why do you care?' he asked, the words coming out more bitterly than he meant them to.  
Snow frowned and looked down, glancing back up at Theon from under lowered brows. 'I - I just. I don't like to see someone get away with shit like this.' 

Theon shook his head. 'Don't worry about it, Snow. I'm handling it.'  
There was a snort of disbelief and Theon's eyes shot up to meet the other man's. 'Fuck you,' he said, his feelings finding an outlet in the man in front of him. 'You don't know shit about me. You don't know what I've been through. What I've done. What the fuck do you even care anyway? Shouldn't you be fucking around with Margaery?'  
Snow had recoiled slightly at the onslaught of words but now he leaned forward. 'What's Margaery got to do with this?'  
Theon stared at him, 'Are you kidding me?'  
'She's not - she's nothing,' his face was open and earnest.  
Theon laughed, a harsh sound, 'That's not what half the castle is saying. The way you had her bent over -'  
'I'm not with her,' Snow broke in. 'It was a one time thing and now it's done. Anyway that has nothing to do with what I was asking,' he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His tattoos were swirling again, spiking back and forth over his arms like they didn't know what shape to take.

Theon felt those words break through his anger and they brought him up short. He felt his agitation drain away and he sighed, 'Sorry,' he muttered. 'Thanks for getting me out of class. I … I wasn't doing so well.' He looked down at his hands, feeling his chest ache at the admission.  
Snow was silent for a while and they looked out over the Lake together. Finally the other man broke the silence. 'I'm sure you have other people to talk to,' he said quietly, playing with some pebbles in front of him. 'But if you want to talk to me … I'm here.'  
Theon glanced across at the man to see his gaze was focussed resolutely on the stones he was fiddling with. He sighed out a heavy breath. 'I don't,' he said. Snow glanced across at him, a hint of hurt in his eyes. Theon qualified, 'I don’t have anyone else to talk to. I - I kind of fucked things up for myself around here a while back. I was young and a jerk and I thought I was better than everyone, and I hung out with people that thought the same thing. Then things changed, and now …' he shrugged.

Snow frowned, opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment then said, 'Someone's used those curses on you before, haven't they?'  
Theon looked across at him, memories beating at his temples.  
'You were in the Hospital Wing for the Cruciatus Curse at the start of term, weren't you?' Snow continued, unperturbed by his lack of response. Theon looked across at him. Looked into serious, grey eyes that were full of concern and sympathy. He felt the wall he'd put up crumbling. He felt his resolve to deal with this himself weakening.  
'Theon … you can trust me,' the other man said, eyes searching his.  
Theon let out a heavy sigh, feeling his determination waver and snap. He nodded slowly.

'Yeah, I've had the Cruciatus used on me,' he admitted, voice raspy as he said those words out loud for the first time ever.  
'Who did it?' Snow said, and now there was anger simmering in his eyes. Theon shook his head. That was a step he couldn't take. He couldn't draw other people into that battle - put them at risk of that psycho. 'Doesn't matter who it was,' he said. 'I told you. I'm dealing with it.'  
Snow looked ready to argue but he restrained himself, instead speaking again, 'The Imperius too?' he queried.  
Theon started, shame flushing though him again, 'Wha - What makes you say that?' he asked, damning the quaver in his voice.  
'I watched you in class. You started getting upset when he demonstrated the first one and it just got worse from there. Have - has someone used the Imperius on you Theon?'

Theon felt his guts clench and he squeezed his eyes shut, burying his head back into his knees. He couldn't. No one could know. He -  
He felt a soft touch on the back of his neck. A light touch. A warm hand. Meant for nothing but comfort. Reassurance that he wasn't alone.  
It had been so long since someone had touched him to make him feel better. He felt a sob leave his chest and he nodded, once, face still buried in his knees.  
The hand on his neck tightened for a moment, then loosened again.  
'Do you want to talk about it?' came the soft, measured voice.

Almost against his will the words came. They were muffled against his legs, but the hand didn't leave his neck, the warm stroke of a thumb against his skin giving him the strength to go on.  
'I … I was with someone and he - they - wanted to do … things. I - I didn’t want to. It had gone too far. I said no. I screamed it. But -' he broke off, throat closing in at the remembered terror of being cut off from his mind, cut off from his body as it was touched. As he was forced to enjoy what was happening to him. As he was forced to beg and plead for it. Again and again.

He took a deep, shaking breath and lifted his head, staring blankly over the Lake. The hand at his neck didn’t move.  
'Later, they'd had enough of me. I was broken. So - they made me … In front of the whole school they made me -' He can't say the words. Even now. 'Well if you want to know, you could ask anyone,' he said, shame and disgust clouding his voice. 'But the worst part was people thinking that was me - people thinking _I_ did that.' He shuddered and the hand at his neck tightened again, this time it was to ground him, he knew … to remind him that Snow was here - that Jon was here.

He looked across and offered a small, twisted smile. 'And now you know how fucked up I am,' he said, with a broken laugh.  
Jon didn’t laugh back. He looked Theon right in the eyes, no hint of the disgust that was running through Theon's whole body showing on his face.  
'I'm going to find out who did this to you, Theon,' he said, voice cold and hard. 'And I am going to tear the bastard to pieces. He will never, _never_ hurt you again.' 

Theon looked into his deadly grey eyes, and just for a moment, he believed - he hoped - that Jon could do just that.


	14. Chapter 14

The walk back to the castle was quiet. But it was a comfortable silence. Every now and again Jon glanced across at him, and Theon couldn't help the glow of warmth that kindled in his chest when he met the other man's grey eyes.

He realised as they walked through the large doors, that the first double period had ended and it was lunch time. There were students streaming into the Great Hall, pushing and laughing and chattering. As the two of them stepped over the threshold, heads turned, eyes locked onto them and whispers started, people nudging their neighbours and pointing.

Theon stiffened, anxiety spiking through him. Jon must have noticed because he muttered under his breath, 'Ignore them. It's me they're talking about, not you.'  
Theon glanced across at him, 'What? Why are they -'  
At that moment two tall, stunningly handsome figures pushed their way through the crowd, heading straight for the pair of them. Theon thought he heard Jon sigh beside him but then the other man straightened up, squaring his shoulders and putting that look on his face that Theon was starting to recognise as Snow, the Quidditch star, and not the real Jon that he was getting glimpses of.

One of the young men stepped right up into Snow's space, pointing a finger in his face. His golden curls framed his aristocratic looking face, and his blue-green eyes sparkled. His robes were neatly pressed and Theon would bet they cost more than his entire wardrobe. Theon eyed him warily, wondering what the hell was going on.  
'Where the fuck do you get off treating my sister that way?' the man said, almost poking Snow in the face. With a jolt, Theon remembered what Jon had told him earlier about not being with Margaery. _What had happened?_  
Snow arched an eyebrow coolly, looking completely unthreatened by the other man's close proximity. 'And you are?'  
The golden haired man paused for a second, looking taken aback, mouth working silently.  
'I'm Loras Tyrell,' he spat finally. 'Margaery's my twin sister - you know, the woman you just despoiled and dumped like she was some cheap whore?' This last was hissed quietly and viciously.

At this, Snow looked more interested, his gaze became sharper, his stance more suggestive as he seemed to sway slightly into Loras' space. Theon frowned at the movement.  
'First,' Snow said, voice gravelly and low. 'Your sister certainly wasn't despoiled by me. She was begging for every second of it.' Loras stiffened, leaning back slightly, hand wavering and dropping a fraction. Theon felt a faint feeling of sickness stir in his gut at the images that those words evoked.  
'Second,' Snow said, leaning in and raising his voice as if to make sure others around him could hear. 'Margaery really wasn't my type. I'm used to a … higher calibre … shall we say.' Then his look turned sharp and predatory.  
'Maybe you could do better?' Snow smirked. He quirked an eyebrow, looking Renly Baratheon, up and down from where he was hovering behind his boyfriend's shoulder. 'Maybe you both could.'  
Theon glanced between them all, unsure he'd heard correctly. _Jon couldn't be suggesting …_. He cursed himself for a fool. With Margaery out of the picture he realised part of him had begun to hope again. Snow's words echoed through his head. _I'm used to a … higher calibre … shall we say_.  
Renly flushed a deep red, biting down on his bottom lip. Loras looked at Snow, mouth open, outrage clouding his features. Snow interrupted him before he could say anything. His voice was husky and Theon felt a spike of heat run through him at the sound of it. The other two men seemed similarly affected.  
'I've seen you watching me - both of you. I don't think you're nearly as upset for your sister as you claim to be, Tyrell.'

Loras' mouth opened and closed and he seemed incapable of forming a reply, staring at the man in front of him. Snow reached up and cupped the side of his face, running his thumb over Loras' bottom lip before tapping him lightly on the face and stepping past him, to stride forward into the Hall. Theon - lost for anything else to do - followed him.  
'Fucking vultures,' Jon muttered, and Theon glanced across to see the arrogant mask was gone and the man's tattoos were flat and lethargic, moving across his skin in slow waves.  
'Wha - then why?' Theon started, totally confused by the scene he'd just witnessed.  
Jon shrugged, not looking at him, 'It's complicated.'

They took their normal seats at the Gryffindor table and Robb looked askance at the two of them. He eyed Theon with concern and seemed to be about to ask him where he'd disappeared to in the Defence lesson when Jon shook his head sharply. He subsided but then said instead,  
'Those two Jon, really?'  
Jon shrugged, 'As good as any.'  
Robb's face clouded, 'Do you really have to -'  
'Drop it Robb,' Jon said, his voice hard and his tattoos spiking back into agitated life.  
Theon looked between them, feeling more confused than ever. Did Jon want Loras and Renly? If he didn't, why was he …  
The thoughts swirled round and round in his head, the only good thing about them was that they took his mind off the scenes earlier that day. The thoughts he had no wish to revisit.

\----

Jon stuck close to him for the rest of the day, waiting with him after lunch and sitting beside him in all his classes. Theon kept looking across at him, but he didn't return the gazes, instead he was doodling Quidditch plays idly on a scrap of parchment - his usual bored and inattentive self through their Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures lessons that afternoon.

Rumours had already spread all around the school about what Jon had said to Loras and Renly, and Jon _had_ to be able to hear the whispers that followed him around the castle, but he ignored everything with an indifference that Theon could only envy. Theon found it more difficult to ignore, his mind travelling back again and again to thoughts of the three of them together … naked bodies twined around each other. He tried his hardest to push the images from his mind and focus on his lessons.

Later that afternoon, Davos drew Theon aside and muttered to him, 'Can ye come down after dinner tonight? There's summat I want te show ye.'  
Theon wanted nothing more than to collapse into his bed and sleep the day away, put the swirls of confusing thought and emotion behind him, but he nodded his head. Davos knew he didn’t like being out after dark by himself. He wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.

\---

After dinner, Jon walked back to the Gryffindor common room with Theon, something he'd never done before. Theon eyed him, unsure whether he should say anything. They paused at the portrait hole and Theon hesitated a moment. Jon was just standing there, rubbing his hand across his arm and glancing across at Theon.  
'So - ah - thanks again for … for this morning,' he said softly - no matter what Jon had going on with other people, what he'd done for Theon - getting him out and then letting him talk … well no one had looked out for him like that for a really long time. He felt another rush of gratitude towards the man.  
'No problem,' Jon said with a small smile. Theon felt his heart give a little lurch. That smile did things to him. He couldn't help it.  
'So - good night then. I'll - ah - see you tomorrow I guess.'  
Jon nodded and said, 'Night Theon.'  
Theon hesitated a moment longer and then gave the password, turning and climbing through the hole in the wall, feeling as though he'd just been driven home from a date or something. Once he was inside he sat for a while in one of the worn old chairs beside the fire, until he was sure Jon would have headed back to the ship. Then, with a sigh, he got up, heading back out into the night.

Davos answered the door to his hut on the first knock, stepping out into the darkness, rather than inviting Theon inside as he usually did.  
'Ah, good lad, yer here. Come with me. Summat I want to show ye. Ye need to keep quiet, mind. I'm not exactly supposed to be showing ye this.'  
'Um … okay,' Theon said, falling into step beside the other man. He didn't say much more, even when they started heading towards the Forbidden Forest. Davos had taken him inside the Forest plenty of times before - not often at night - but he'd always felt safe with the older man by his side.

They walked for about twenty minutes, Davos lighting the way with a lantern, before he held out a hand, stopping Theon when he bumped against it.  
'Quiet now,' he murmured, shuttering the lantern. They took another step forward just as an ear piercing roar rent the night and a giant gust of flame lit up the woods. They both crouched down behind some bushes and Theon felt his heart thunder to life in his chest. He looked across at Davos, who was peering through the leaves, a rapt expression on his face.  
'C'mon,' the other man muttered. 'We need to get closer.'  
Theon swallowed as another gout of flame lit the night. He wasn't sure he wanted to be any closer than he was at the moment.

They crept right up to a clearing in the woods, and when Theon got a good look at what was inside it, he felt his mouth go dry and anxiety grip his stomach. Four massive dragons were being held in huge iron cages, each of them glaring viciously out of the bars, whipping their heads from side to side or smashing their tails against the restraints. They were all clearly angry about their captivity.  
'Aren't they beautiful,' Davos whispered, staring out from between some branches. As he said it, the biggest beast, a huge black spiked dragon gave another massive roar and smashed its head against the bars, rattling the cage. A number of handlers were running around and a group of them fronted on the huge black dragon, wands raised. Theon saw a tall woman with blonde hair take up a position right in front of the beast. She was clearly in charge as she gave the order to stun. Red jets of light hit the dragon from all directions and it subsided in its cage, shaking its head groggily.  
'Davos,' Theon whispered back, his voice hoarse and anxious. 'What the fuck are these dragons doing here?'

'They're for the challenge, lad,' Davos said, not taking his eyes off the animals.  
Theon felt his anxiety crystalize into crippling panic. 'They're for the what? You mean I'm supposed to - to -' He couldn't finish his sentence, looking back out over the clearing, watching the deadly animals twist and turn, one by one being forcibly calmed by the team of handlers led by the giant of a woman.  
Davos realised belatedly that he was heading for a full blown panic attack and came back to his senses. 'Well, we've probably seen enough for tonight I think,' he said, glancing back over his shoulder more than once as he led Theon away from the clearing. As they moved further away from the sounds and the great flares of light, Theon felt his heartbeat and breathing begin to slow down.

He was about to demand Davos tell him how the fuck he was supposed to fight a dragon when the other man started up.  
'Magnificent creatures, aren't they? The black one's a Black Dread - biggest and most vicious dragon there is. The red - did ye see her - is a Sunfyre. They're from the desert. Beautiful colouring. The white is an Ice Dragon - very rare those. I'm surprised they managed to catch one. And the green is a Rhaegal. Very pretty creature. Deadly too o'course.'  
'Davos,' Theon interrupted him. 'How am I supposed to be able to -'  
'Ah,' said Davos, looking away from him. 'That's the thing. I shouldna even shown ye the dragons. Cheating init. But I didn't want ye going in blind … I probably shouldn't help ye more, lad. Besides,' he said, clapping Theon on the back and driving him forward a pace, 'You're a smart lad. Ye'll figure summat out for sure.'  
Theon ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach and took a deep breath, walking faster to get out of the woods as quickly as he could. There was no point pushing Davos. The man had a particular sense of honour that he refused to break.

He said goodnight when they reached Davos' hut again - he couldn't bring himself to say thank you - not yet - and made his way back up to the castle. It was late now, the corridors silent and he didn’t even spot the caretaker's cat, as he made his way swiftly and confidently through the deserted castle.  
When he got into his bed, he didn't even bother trying to get to sleep by himself - after what he'd just seen, he knew he'd be tossing and turning the whole night. Instead he got the small bottle of pills Madame Maegyr had given him and swallowed one dry. As the darkness pulled him down, his last thought was that he needed to warn Jon.

\---

The next morning Theon stepped out of the portrait hole right before class and jumped in surprise as he almost bumped into Gendry, who pushed off the wall with an easy smile.  
'Hey Greyjoy,' he said, stepping up beside Theon, who recovered from his initial shock.  
'Hey Gendry,' he said automatically, before frowning in confusion. 'Um … not to be rude or anything … but what are you doing here.'  
Gendry just shrugged, 'I just wanted to come and say hi, is all.'  
Theon raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced, but Gendry just smiled. 'Come on, we're going to be late for class if you stand around here all morning. Also,' he said as they turned and began walking, 'You should eat breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day you know. And if there's one thing you Southerner's do right, it's food.'  
Theon just glanced at him, still totally confused.

After Gendry had sat beside him in class, followed him to lunch and sat beside him in every other class, he was feeling less confused. His annoyance with the whole situation was helping to take his mind of the sheer panic he was experiencing every time he thought about the dragons, so he focussed on the emotion. He wanted to bail up Jon and tell him he didn't need a bloody bodyguard _thank you very much_ but the other man was making himself scarce - sitting away from the others in class and disappearing straight after. Theon caught sight of him at one point, leaning up against the table that Loras and Renly and a bunch of their friends were sitting at, arms crossed, muscles on display, but he in no way wanted to be a part of that conversation.

At the end of the day, as they were walking out of dinner - which Jon hadn't attended - he pulled Robb aside. 'Where's your brother? I need to talk to him.'  
Robb gave him a small smile, 'If it's about Gen today, you should know there's a rotating roster. We're all on it. Whatever arsehole is giving you shit is suddenly going to find it a lot harder to get you alone. And if it's Bolton,' his voice was suddenly cold and hard, 'I want that fucker to know I'm watching him.'  
Theon felt icy fear run through him at the mention of Ramsay's name. He pushed it away and glared at Robb. They all needed to back off, 'That's not Jon's call and it's not your call. I can look after myself.'  
Robb raised both hands, 'Hey Theon, Jon's just looking out for you. He likes you. We all do. We don't want to see you get hurt again.'  
Theon opened his mouth to argue - derailed momentarily by the comment that Jon liked him - when he realised that Robb wasn't the one he needed to be having this argument with.  
'Where's your brother?' he said again, more calmly this time.

Robb shrugged, 'He's been looking antsy today, so I'd say he's probably in that big forest you have. He likes to go there sometimes.'  
Theon's annoyance with Jon trying to control his life slipped slightly, 'The Forbidden Forest is dangerous,' he said, concern in his voice.  
Robb smiled and there was a sharp, almost feral edge to it all of a sudden. 'So is Jon,' he returned.  
Theon swallowed dryly and turned away from him, heading out of the castle. There was probably still another hour of light, if he hurried.

He followed the main path down past Davos' cabin, winding his way into the Forest. He hoped Jon hadn’t gone in far - both so that he had a chance at finding him … and so that he didn't come across some of the inhabitants that lived deeper in the forest … the ones that weren't interested in visitors.

He walked for a few minutes before he though he heard a faint voice coming from somewhere off to his left. Glancing around to get his bearings, he stepped off the path, moving quietly through the trees. The voice became louder but he couldn't pick up any words. Then he saw a flash of white off to his right and turned his head, but it was gone before he could see it properly. He put his head down and kept walking. There was another movement, and another, and he saw grey fur, quickly moving bodies. He froze in place, looking around with wide eyes. Then three huge wolves stepped out from the shadows between the trees, converging on him. They were the largest wolves he'd ever seen, and the size of the teeth he could see through the low growling snarls made him gulp and lick his lips dryly. He held up his hands slowly, trying to show he wasn't a threat. Davos had never warned him about wolves.

He stepped back a step and a stick cracked under his boot. The growls from two of the wolves picked up in volume, becoming more menacing. The third - the white one - was silent, but its red eyes looked the most dangerous of all. He glanced between the animals, knowing if he ran for it, he was dead, and wondering if he would have a chance at going for his wand.

Then a voice rang out through the trees, 'Ghost, Nymeria, Grey Wind. To me,’ the voice was firm - commanding - and the huge wolves obeyed without hesitation. Theon sagged in relief and looked up to meet Jon Snow's grey eyes.  
‘There’s a dirty great eagle in here somewhere too,’ he smiled. ‘And I haven’t seen them but I think the Targaryen girl brought a few more dragons with her and stashed them in the forest somewhere.’  
Theon started at the mention of dragons, remembering initially why he'd wanted to talk to Jon, before his day had become derailed by the thought that Jon looked at him as someone who needed babysitting.

'Dragons are the first challenge,' he blurted out, before he could think better of it.  
'Sorry?' Jon asked raising an eyebrow.  
'Dragons,' Theon said, more slowly. 'I've seen them. There are four. Huge. Nothing like that little one Daenerys brought in. We have to fight them or something, I don't know. But I - I just wanted you to know. To be prepared.'  
Jon looked at him for a moment, face registering shock and a tinge of apprehension, which made Theon feel better about his reactions to them. 'Wow. Okay, thanks … you didn't need to come all the way out here to tell me that though?'  
At those words, Theon felt some of his earlier embarrassment and frustration come flooding back. 'No I probably didn't. But I did want to come and tell you that I don't need you and your friends babysitting me like I'm some invalid who can't even take care of myself. I'm doing just fine.'  
The last was a lie. He knew it. But his pride didn't want to bend far enough to let Jon Snow - world ranked Quidditch player and all round sex symbol - see him like that.  
One of the wolves stepped closer to him, lip pulling back in a silent snarl at Theon's tone. Theon eyed it warily, but Jon pushed it on the side of the head. 'Stop it Ghost. Go eat a squirrel or something.' With an affronted look, the huge animal turned, disappearing into the forest.

'Wolves are pack animals you know?' Jon said, startling Theon, drawing his eyes back. Theon frowned, thinking he was changing the subject. Jon took a step back until he was sitting on a fallen tree. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking weary.  
'This is hard for me to explain to someone that's not from the North, but these marks - these tattoos - we get. They're - they link us to the spirit of an animal.'  
'Anya told me a bit about it,' Theon interrupted, interested despite himself.  
Jon nodded, looking a little less lost. 'Well, my totem is a wolf. And for me, it's strong.' He glanced up, meeting Theon's eyes, his own grey ones seeming somehow raw and vulnerable.  
'Wolves protect their own - their pack. It's - they can't do otherwise. And I - that is - you,' he paused, running a hand roughly though his hair. 'I just - please let me protect you? Something in me needs to. Please?' Jon looked away, cheeks darkening.

Theon stared at him, mouth hanging open - all the frustration and shame from the thoughts he'd been having during the day draining away.  
'I - um … okay. Thanks,' he said quietly and Jon's tense form sagged a little in what might have been relief. Theon cast around for something to say to break the intensity of the moment, his own thoughts swirling in confusion at the admission.  
'What are you doing out here, anyway?' he asked, looking around and not seeing anyone else.  
Jon seemed happy enough to latch onto the change of subject. He shrugged, 'I like it out here. The wolves miss us. Your Headmaster said students don’t come in here and I wanted a break from ...’  
‘All the drooling and ogling?’ Theon suggested with a small smile, trying to keep the tone light. 

‘Something like that,’ Jon said quietly, looking away from Theon's gaze.  
'What's going on?' Theon asked unable to help himself, 'With -'  
'I don’t want to talk about it,' Jon said, looking back up to meet his eyes. 'Please? I come out here to get away from that shit.'  
Theon frowned, still wanting answers but understanding where Jon was coming from. The lake had that effect on him, allowing him to clear his thoughts and just let go.

'Who were you talking to before?' he asked instead. 'The wolves?'  
To his surprise, Jon flushed a deeper red, one foot scuffing at the ground. He hesitated, eyes searching Theon's before he muttered, 'I was practicing spells.'  
Theon frowned in confusion, 'Why out here? I thought - I had the impression from classes that …' he hesitated, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say without it being offensive.  
'That I don't give a shit and think I'm too good for school?' Jon asked, a small smile on his lips.  
Theon shrugged, mirroring his smile, 'Basically?'

Jon sighed, 'Yeah well, everyone expects me to be some big super star - expects me to be good at bloody everything. And I'm not. I need - I have to practice and I stuff things up just like everyone else … but -'  
'But you don’t want people to see that side of you?' Theon guessed, realising the disconnect between Jon's passion in the air and his striving to be the best and his lack of interest in class had been bothering him for a while now.  
'Pretty much,' Jon agreed.  
'So you come out here to practice alone, then turn up in class and do it perfectly?' Theon continued.  
Jon nodded, scuffing at the ground again, looking embarrassed.  
'That's stupid,' Theon said.

Jon looked up sharply, a frown on his face.  
Theon back peddled, cursing himself for putting both feet in his mouth for the entire conversation. 'That's not what I meant. I just mean, surely you don't have to do it alone? You have your brother - your friends.'  
Jon looked down, kicking at the leaves at his feet. 'I got pretty behind last year, with all the touring for the Cup,' he said quietly. 'If Robb knows, he'll tell my dad. And Gen and Ygritte … they - they see me a certain way and I don't want -'  
He cut himself off but Theon gets it. He understands more than anyone what it's like to be one person but have the world see you as another.

A thought came to him and he suggested it tentatively, ready to be rejected.  
'I could - that is, if you want - I could help you practice? I could do with some extra training myself.' Jon didn't say anything for a long moment and Theon jumped back in, 'Of course, I understand if you have a thing going that works for you, that's fine. I'm pretty busy with other stuff anyway,' he babbles.  
Jon's eyes met his again and Theon cut himself off as Jon reached a hand out to him. Automatically, Theon reached out his own and they clasped forearms, a warriors clasp. He could feel Jon's bare skin under his palm and it sent a shiver of heat through him.  
'Thank you, Theon,' Jon said, still looking into his eyes. 'I'd like that.'  
Theon's heart beat hard against his chest and he smiled, 'Me too.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragons, dragons, dragons :D
> 
> Sorry for the slow up of Ch's but I'm definitely still all on board with getting this out to you all :) Hope you're liking it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story officially has more hits than any of my others in my very short 6 month career on Ao3. Thank you all so much for taking the time :)

The next week or so passed quickly. Theon divided his time between worrying about how in the hell he was going to beat a fifty tonne dragon with just his wand and … watching Jon. He's hot and cold and Theon just doesn't _get_ him. They'd talked in the woods and Theon had felt like he had a bit of an understanding about where Jon was coming from - why he acted the way he did. He'd thought that after that … and after he basically broke down in front of the man at the Lake … that things would be different. But they're not. Not really.

Sure he looks up sometimes from his classwork to see Jon just _watching_ him. The other man always looks away as soon as Theon meets his eyes. And Jon seems to be his self-appointed body guard more often than any of the others … but that doesn't really mean anything. He'd probably just decided that since it was his idea to watch out for Theon - something he's _still_ not entirely comfortable with - that he should do most of the work. After all, it's not like they _talk_ on the days where Jon walks with him to class, sits with him, has meals with him and escorts him back to his room. He's just there. Being all broody and handsome and a total distraction to everything Theon's trying to get done … like figure out how _the fuck_ he's supposed to beat a fifty tonne dragon with just his wand.

He'd thought about asking Jon what he was planning to do … but Jon hadn't said anything about them practicing spells together, so he didn't want to bring it up and make it sound like he just wanted to get ideas from Jon so he could beat him in the tournament. _Not that there's any chance of that,_ Theon thought bitterly to himself as he crossed the courtyard after their Transfiguration class. He'd decided to head to the library to see what he could dig up on dragons and their weaknesses. General stressing wasn't getting him anywhere.

Gendry and Ygritte hadn't been interested in the library and Jon had headed off straight after class - he had that restless look Theon was starting to associate with him needing space. Robb was his babysitter today, and he'd been happy enough to hang out in the library … or had been until he spotted the young Healer walking through the corridor, carrying an armload of boxes, filled with bandages, jars and books. He'd hesitated, clearly torn, looking after Healer Maegyr and then turning back to Theon, a grimace on his face. Theon had laughed and given him a push, 'Go get her, tiger.' Robb had flashed him a grateful smile and jogged quickly after the retreating figure calling, 'Talisa, hey, wait up. Need a hand?'

Theon smiled and shook his head as he pictured the lovesick look on Robb's face. Maybe they could compare notes about chasing someone who was out of your reach. He was lost in his own thoughts as he made his way through the huge courtyard, but a hard, mocking voice brought him brutally back to reality.  
'Why hello, pet. All alone are we?'

Theon jerked his head up, eyes wide and panicked, to see Ramsey push himself off the tree he had been leaning on. Beside him, Locke, Myranda and Joffrey all straightened up as well, moving into a rough semi-circle around Theon. He half turned, throat dry, heart beating hard in his chest - trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once. He couldn't, and he felt sick dread curl in his stomach. Bolton had been watching him all week - eyes dark and vicious whenever Theon darted a glance across at him. He was furious at Theon's new protective detail, Theon could tell. He knew Bolton. What made him tick. What drove him to the edge. 

He fought against the urge to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. It wouldn't make any difference to what was coming and he wanted to hold on to what little dignity he had left as long as he could.  
Ramsey stepped in closer, lifting one hand to stroke gently down Theon's cheek. Theon fought the shudder that wanted to rip through his body at the other man's touch.  
'We had a talk, you and I. I thought we'd come to an understanding.' His face grew hard, anger flaring in his eyes. 'I should have remembered how _fucking stupid_ you are,' Bolton hissed, fingers digging cruelly into Theon's neck. He fought the whimper that wanted to break free, dropping his eyes to the ground, feeling hopelessness break over him.

'Look at me when I'm talking to you, Reek,' Bolton commanded, voice low and hard. Theon raised his eyes to meet the other man's and he saw pure, naked rage. He saw the punishments Ramsey had always threatened him with, written large in his eyes as a promise.  
'Now,' Bolton said, tone not lightening. 'We're all going to go for a little walk. We're going to find somewhere nice and quiet to spend a bit of time together. You'd like that, wouldn't you, pet?'

Theon whimpered, the sound escaping him against his will. He shook his head mutely, eyes locked on the other man still. He could vaguely sense the others behind him - sense their excitement as they watched him.  
'Please,' he said, voice dry and raspy. 'Please don't.'  
A bit of the rage left Bolton's eyes at the words - at Theon begging. He seemed to rein himself in slightly, licking his lips quickly with a deep breath.  
'This is nothing more than what you deserve, Reek, surely you must see that?' His voice took on a bit of the softness that Theon hated more than anything - the tone that said that he was enjoying himself, and that the worst cruelty was about to come.

Theon shuddered again, eyes darting around wildly. There were other students in the courtyard - though no one seemed to have realised anything was amiss - or no one wanted to get in between Bolton and his game. He could feel his heartbeat rocketing through him and his breathing was coming quickly. His hands began to shake. His eyes met Bolton's again and he saw satisfaction and something predatory. He was enjoying the panic of his prey before he pounced.

Something in Theon snapped. He couldn't allow himself to be taken like this. He couldn't. Not again. He acted in a split second, pushing Ramsey backwards and darting from the circle, putting all of his energy into frantic movement. He knew it was pointless before he even moved and he heard Bolton's voice from behind him as he broke into a run, 'Levicorp-'. He braced himself to be ripped up into the air but before Bolton could finish speaking a voice roared out from behind him.

'Oh no you don't!'  
There was a jet of light and Theon glanced back over his shoulder to see Bolton twist and swirl, melting down into the ground. He kept backing away, wanting to put as much space between himself and the others as he could, as he looked across to see who had thrown the spell. Theon's eyes widened when he realised it was Professor Lannister. He was making swift, stumping progress over to the group by the tree - which had scattered at his approach.  
The Professor glared down at the ground, voice still hard with anger, 'I'll teach you to attack someone when their back is turned, you sneaking little animal.' There was a white blur of movement as something streaked away but the Professor pointed his wand again, bringing the small creature up short, floating it in the air until it was dangling in front of his eyes.

Theon couldn't help the shaky little laugh that broke from his throat as he got a good look at Ramsey for the first time. A small, white kitten was hanging in the air in front of the Professor's face. It had incredibly fluffy fur, and a big, red satin bow was wrapped around its neck. It was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. He snickered again, some of his fear dying down, and the kitten turned wide, frightened eyes to him. At the sight of his laughter, its bright blue eyes narrowed and it hissed and spat at him. Theon was sobered to realise that Bolton knew exactly what had happened and that he would not forget it anytime soon.

A group of curious students had gathered around the Professor and the kitten hanging in mid air. Whispers and giggles were spreading among them as people pointed at Ramsey and told each other what had happened. Theon watched the kitten grow increasingly agitated, swiping its tiny, fluffy paws through the air, mewling softly. The sight sent fresh giggles through the crowd and he heard more than one person cooing about how _cute_ he was, and how much they wanted to snuggle him up.  
Then the Professor spoke again, glaring into the tiny animal's face, 'I've got my eye on you boy. Your father is bad news and from what I've seen of you, you're even worse.'  
He moved his wand and the cat flipped back and forth, tiny body flopping around.  
'You think you're big and scary, but I've seen _much_ worse than you, and I'm not afraid to _do_ worse. I want you to remember that, next time you go after -'

'Professor?' A stern voice broke into his words. Professor Lannister glanced across to see Olenna Tyrell approaching, eyeing the kitten hanging in mid air. 'What exactly are you doing, Tyrion?'  
'Teaching,' Professor Lannister grunted, his normal eye swivelling to look at her, while his magical blue eye remained fixed on the pathetic looking figure in front of him.  
'Teach -' Professor Tyrell started, and then she gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, 'Tyrion, is that a _student?_ ' At the look of satisfaction on Professor Lannister's face, she raised her voice commandingly, 'Turn him back _immediately!_ We _never_ use transfiguration as a punishment, Professor Lannister.'  
With a sigh of dissatisfaction, the small man turned his full attention back to the fluffy kitten, waving his wand. In a blur of movement, Ramsey Bolton appeared, half crouched in front of the group of people. He was breathing heavily, eyes wide and hands held protectively in front of himself.

There were renewed laughs at his appearance and Theon made sure to move even further to the back of the group. He didn't want to take any chances that Bolton could get near him again. Bolton glanced around and then Theon saw him take a deep, deliberate breath and straighten himself. His face was dark red with anger and humiliation and his look, when he directed it down at the Professor in front of him was vicious. Theon heard his words even from behind the chattering group of students.  
'You'll regret that, Imp. My father will hear about this. You'd better watch your back.'

Theon shivered at the words, knowing how true they were, but to his amazement, the Professor threw back his head and let out a roar of laughter.  
'You think I'm afraid of a little pissant like you? You think I'm afraid of your miserable _daddy_?' His voice when it came was cold and hard and he took a step forward, wand raised. Somehow, suddenly he was _menacing_. Theon recalled the rumours that had been floating around the school about Professor Lannister's past - the Dark Wizards he'd fought … and killed.  
From the look on Bolton's face, some of those thoughts seemed to have entered his mind as well. He swallowed and moved back a step, turning abruptly on his heel to stride away from the group of now silent students.  
'Wise choice, fluff ball,' the Professor called after him, voice loud and mocking.

Bolton jerked his head and Locke, Myranda and Joffrey fell in beside him. The four of them left the courtyard together and Theon let out a relieved breath as the tension drained from his body. All of a sudden he was shaky again and he had to close his eyes for a moment to try and recover himself. A moment later a hand grabbed his elbow and he started, looking down, feeling his heart pounding again.

The Professor stood in front of him, pulling a flask from his pocket and taking a quick swig before he looked up to meet Theon's eyes.  
'I think you should come with me, Greyjoy,' he said, his tone making it clear it wasn't a request. 'It's time you and I had a little talk.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one was very fun.
> 
> Thanks to my eternal muse @theonsfavouritetoy for the kitten idea. Little fluff ball. I just want to squeeze him >.<


	16. Chapter 16

Theon didn't know what to expect when he followed Professor Lannister into his office, but sumptuous red velvet couches, thick golden swathes of fabric hanging around the windows and walls of books certainly wasn't it. The Professor waved a hand at one of the couches as he stumped his way over to a small, gilded desk, covered in parchment and still more open books. He reached up for two goblets and brought them over to the couch with him, passing one to Theon and pulling himself up beside the other man. When he was settled he pulled the small bottle from his robes that Theon had seen him drink from on more than one occasion.

He flicked the cap off and tilted it up, filling first his own goblet, then Theon's. It was a dark red liquid and Theon brought the cup up to his face, sniffing cautiously.  
'It’s not poison, don't worry. It's Arbor Red,' the Professor said with a small smile. 'My flask is self-filling. Need something to get through days filled with whining little brats.'  
Theon couldn't help the small smile that crept across his face.  
'Drink up,' the other man said. 'Will do you good.'  
Theon took a sip, grimacing at the slightly bitter taste. 'It grows on you,' Professor Lannister said, draining half his goblet in one swallow. Theon took a bigger sip and felt the alcohol move through his body - the small amount helping him to begin to unwind clenched muscles and fear scattered thoughts.

'He put your name in the Goblet, didn't he,' Professor Lannister said suddenly, and Theon almost spit out his next mouthful of wine. He glanced across to see the man watching him shrewdly. It hadn't been a question. Theon hesitated, but he couldn't see any point in trying to deny it. He simply nodded once.  
'Powerful little fucker, then,' the short man muttered to himself with a scowl.  
'How did you know?' Theon asked him, heart pounding at finally having acknowledged the other danger Bolton had placed him in.  
'It's what I do,' his teacher said, with a sly smirk. 'I drink, and I know things.'

Theon closed his eyes for a moment - if only the other man knew the full story.  
'Professor -' he started, needing to tell him - to warn him.  
'Call me Tyrion,' the other man interrupted, pouring himself another glass of wine.  
'Tyrion,' he said, the name feeling awkward on his tongue. 'Thank you - for saving me. But - but he's dangerous - Bolton. You don't know what he's capable of.'  
Tyrion gave a short bark of laughter, 'You don't know what I'm capable of, boy. I can more than handle some jumped up Minister's son.'  
'Sir - Tyrion,' Theon interrupted, needing the man to listen. 'It's - he's more than just some student. He's evil - twisted - and he likes to play games …' Theon shuddered, his words drying up for a moment as he closed his eyes, trying to ward off the memories. 'And he's smart. Like brilliantly smart. He knows things - dark things …'

Tyrion studied him, one blue eye and one green fixed on Theon's face, his own face serious now.  
'Okay lad, okay. Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to watch my back … more so than usual.' Then he tipped Theon a brief wink as his sparkling blue eye swirled around to the back of his head and despite himself, Theon felt a little better about the whole situation. Telling Jon had been one thing. But telling someone - an adult - a Professor - took a weight off his shoulders that he hadn't even realised he'd been carrying.

'So,' Tyrion said, topping up Theon's goblet unasked, '… what's your plan to get rid of your dragon?'

\-----

Theon was dazed when he walked out of Tyrion's office. The combination of the earlier attack, the wine, the knowledge that the Professor would be watching Bolton for any sort of evidence he could use to string him up - and the range of ideas that were now swirling around in his mind about the first challenge had him feeling dizzy.

He started badly when Jon rushed up to him in the corridor, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders.  
'What the fuck happened?' the grey-eyed man demanded angrily.  
Theon shied back, Jon's grip was just short of painful and the look of vicious anger in his eyes stirred recent, unpleasant memories of Bolton.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and shame flooded through him. The shame he had not allowed himself to feel earlier - that two seconds after Robb had left him, he had been at Bolton's mercy. Shame that he was so completely, pathetically, fucking useless at looking after himself.  
Jon shook his shoulders, moving right up into Theon's face. 'Answer me, damnit. What happened?'

Theon's eyes darted away, looking for escape. He didn't want to talk about it, to admit to what had happened. It had been bad enough talking it out with Tyrion - who had witnessed it. He felt his heart beating hard in his chest and his breathing speed up. Jon was too close … too loud … too angry  
'Jon - stop it!' came a loud voice to his right and Theon's head jerked around to see Robb standing there, face flushed as though he'd just been running.  
Jon's grip on Theon's shoulders loosened slightly and Robb continued, 'It's not Theon's fault. It's mine,' Robb flushed darker at these words, his tattoos flattening out and giving him a submissive look. 'I - I got distracted and I left him alone. I had no idea they'd be on him so quick. I'm sorry.'

Robb's eyes turned to Theon, still trapped in Jon's grip. His face looked anguished. 'I'm so sorry, Theon. I shouldn't have left.'  
Theon shook his head, words coming back to him at last. 'It's fine. You can't be my nursemaid every second of the day,' he muttered, humiliation leaving a rank taste in his mouth.  
'Are you okay?' Robb asked him, and Jon started, hands softening so that he was just lightly holding Theon's arms.  
'Shit,' Jon said, grey eyes meeting Theon's, the hot anger in them fading to something that held concern and consternation. 'Sorry. I should have asked. I just - when I heard that something had happened - I came straight here.' He dropped his hands completely and took a step back.  
All of a sudden Theon felt the loss of his presence keenly. He didn't want Jon to step back - to move away. He wanted the other man to hold him. He wanted to bury his face in Jon's neck and be told that everything would be okay.

He straightened up, 'I'm fine,' he muttered instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid reaching out and pulling the dark-haired man back to him. The wine he'd drunk was making his self-control tenuous. 'Nothing happened.'  
'It was Bolton,' Robb said, looking at Jon now. 'I heard a couple of Slytherins talking about it.'  
Jon's face darkened again and he looked to Theon. Whatever he saw in Theon's face confirmed it without him having to say anything.  
'He's been the one this whole time?' Jon asked, eyes gone steely grey now. Theon set his jaw and refused to say anything. He could still try and keep them out of it. Keep them safe from him. He saw Jon's jaw clench as he gritted his teeth and he felt his heart sink.  
'You’re with me now,' Jon said to Theon, voice grim. 'If he comes anywhere near you - he's dead.'  
Theon felt his heartbeat spike at the words - he didn't know if it was in fear for Jon … or fear of him. In that moment, he looked every inch the Northern warrior and Theon knew he would brook no argument.

\----- 

Jon was as good as his word. He became Theon's constant shadow. The moment he stepped out of the common room in the morning, Jon was beside him with a quiet good morning and a small smile - the one Theon hadn't seen him give to anyone else. He was with Theon through every class, every trip to the library, every conversation he had until he went back to his room at the end of the night. It was driving him mad.

Theon had seen Bolton eyeing him more than once - across the Great Hall at mealtime, or from a few seats over in the classes they shared together, but - so far - he hadn't dared to make a move. Whenever Jon saw him looking, the man practically _growled_ deep in his chest. If looks could kill, Bolton would have been long dead. But, even Jon seemed to realise he couldn't attack unprovoked, and that despite his Quidditch notoriety, permanently damaging the son of the Minister of Magic would not be a good move.

The only times Jon left him alone were mealtimes in the Great Hall, and that was only because he was surrounded by half a dozen of the Durmstrangs at any given point and after Robb had messed up, the lot of them were hyper vigilant. When Jon left, Theon tried not to watch him go. His close proximity to the man lately was only making watching him with others even harder.

Jon, it seemed, hadn't let his self-appointed role as Theon's bodyguard get in the way of his next conquest. They walked into the Hall for dinner one night after a particularly gruelling day of Charms and Transfiguration and Theon turned to Jon to ask him a question about the theory Professor Tyrell had covered off on. They'd started studying together when he was watching out for Theon while he was in the library (Theon remembered his exact words as 'It's a stupid waste of time for you to just sit there brooding at me') scoring a table in the back that kept them hidden from most of the other students. Theon was finding that now that the other man had time and a safe place to study in, Jon was picking up the concepts quicker than he was.

But Jon missed his question, eyes scanning the Hall. Theon felt the familiar churning disappointment flood through him as his eyes followed Jon's and saw Loras and Renly lording it over the Ravenclaw table.  
Jon touched his back softly leaning in, 'Study session tonight?' he asked, eyes on the other men still.  
Theon sighed and nodded, 'Sure,' he said dully. At least he was good for one thing - helping the Quidditch star keep his grades up. Jon flashed him a small, happy smile that made Theon's heart skip a beat and then he looked at Robb to make sure his brother was paying attention to the changing of the guard.  
Robb rolled his eyes, 'You need to just get it over with already,' he muttered in a low voice that Theon had a feeling he wasn't meant to hear. Jon frowned but turned anyway and made his way to the Ravenclaw table.

Theon tried not to watch as he slid in between Loras and Renly, one hand on Renly's shoulder as he leaned in to say something in the other man's ear that had him flushing a deep red and the others around him breaking into laughter. From the angle he was on, Theon could see Snow had his other hand on Loras' leg, and despite the handsome man's impassive face and the furious disapproval of his sister at the other end of the table, Loras hadn’t attempted to make him move it.

With a wrench he forced himself to look away. His gaze fell on the Hufflepuff table and he was surprised to see a few of the Beauxbaton students sitting there. They had joined Drogo and some of his Quidditch team. As he watched, he saw Drogo pick something up off his plate and offer it to the silver-haired woman beside him. She smiled slightly before leaning in to eat it out of his hand, a few drops of red juice spilling down her chin. With his thumb, Drogo wiped them off, before bringing his thumb to his mouth, eyes smouldering as he sucked it clean. The violet eyes of several of her brothers - cousins? - watched the entire exchange, and Theon saw at least one lick his lips.

He looked away with a curse. Was everyone in this fucking school getting some except him? He was about to push his plate back and see if any of his bodyguards would skip their own dinner and follow him to the Library when a sudden hush broke out over the Great Hall. He looked to the front of the room to see the Headmaster was standing, arms spread.

'My apologies for interrupting your meal,' Lord Tywin said in a voice that carried easily across the Hall. He looked anything but sorry. 'As you know,' he continued, we are but a week away from the first Challenge of the Triwizard Tournament. Next Friday classes will be cancelled-'  
A cheer ran through the Hall, cutting off his next words and the Headmaster frowned with displeasure. The cheering broke off quickly.  
'Classes will be cancelled, and you will all be escorted down to the site of the challenge. We will have representatives from the Ministry, from the media and from our Champion's families present, so I expect each of you to represent Hogwarts appropriately.' The chill in his voice made it clear that he would be dealing with people who stepped out of line. The Hall was silent now.

Theon, however, was lost in thought. He'd completely forgotten families were invited to each of the Challenges. He nearly snorted at the thought of Balon coming down and doing the supportive parent thing. He hadn't heard a word from his father in response to his owl home saying he'd been entered in the Tournament, so there was fat chance of seeing him on the day. He pushed the thought of family to the back of his mind. He had bigger problems to worry about - like the fact that despite Professor Lannister pointing him in the right direction - he still hadn't found a spell that he thought would give him a chance against a fully grown - angry - dragon. He'd been trying to ignore how fast the time was passing … and now to hear that the Challenge was less than a week away …

He slumped in his seat, glancing across at Jon again to see that he seemed to have taken Drogo's example and was now feeding dripping custard to Renly with his bare fingers. Theon felt sick. The Headmaster had finished speaking, so he pushed his plate away and stood - not caring if anyone followed him.

He was barely out of the Hall before he heard the voice behind him, 'Hey, Theon, wait up.'  
He closed his eyes briefly and nearly growled in frustration. Then he smoothed his face and turned to Jon, who was jogging up to him, wiping his hands on his pants as he came closer.  
'I thought we were going to the Library tonight?' Jon said, looking confused.  
Theon snorted, 'I figured you were busy. I can study by myself. I wouldn't want to distract you from your -' he paused, not wanting to say more about the scene that still had his guts roiling.  
Jon shook his head as though shaking the whole situation off, 'Don't worry about it. I'd much rather be studying with you.' Then he gave Theon that small smile that never failed to make his heart turn over in his chest.

Theon looked at him, confused as ever about what the other man was playing at. Surely he must know how Theon felt. It was bloody obvious to every other person around him - that had been made clear. Theon opened his mouth, wanting to tell Jon to just get on with his life and stop shoving his other hook ups in his face, but he couldn't. If he was so far beneath Jon that he didn't even realise Theon wanted him, then Theon wasn't going to humiliate himself by drawing attention to it.  
Instead he turned, shrugging. 'Let's go then. Do you remember anything from History of Magic? I think I actually fell asleep this morning.'  
Jon sniggered softly and Theon felt a spike of happiness that he just couldn't squash.  
'Yeah I think I caught the main points. What time period are you going to focus on for your _Great Wizarding Moments_ essay?' Jon asked, walking easily beside him.  
Theon felt himself relax slightly and he deliberately pushed away all thoughts of the earlier scene. This was him and Jon and if it was just talking school … then he could do that. He could.

They stayed late that night, comparing notes, swapping books and quizzing each other for the test Professor Mormont had said was coming up in Herbology.  
'We should go out into the Forest on the weekend,' Jon said after a few hours, looking up from the end of his _Properties of Asphyxiora_ essay for Qyburn.  
Theon felt a spike of interest run through him at the thought of being out in the Forest with Jon - no one to see or hear them. Somewhere the other man felt more comfortable to let his guard down. He pushed it away.  
'Oh?' he said casually, keeping his head down, his quill scratching across the parchment, trying to collect his scattered thoughts and direct them towards the mating habits of the Giant Squid which he was trying to categorise for Care of Magical Creatures.

'I - it would be good to practice spells,' Jon said. 'We haven't really done that yet. And - well the Challenge is next week as well.'  
And suddenly there it was - the dragon in the room. _Literally_ , Theon thought with dark humour. He laid his quill down, looking up into Jon's troubled eyes.  
'Are you - do you have a plan?' the dark haired man asked him, biting gently at the corner of his lip. Theon was distracted for a moment by that. He had a sudden urge to just push himself forward and crash their mouths together and be damned whatever happened. He squashed it.  
'Uh … kind of,' he said, wincing at the lack of confidence in his tone.  
Jon looked away, then looked back at him. 'I - I've thought of something that might work … but it's a _dragon_ , you know? Do you want to compare notes? Two heads and all that?'

Theon felt relief and warmth bloom in his chest and suddenly he realised the reason he hadn't brought the subject up with Jon yet was that he'd been afraid the other man would either see them as rivals and shut him down - or would think Theon had been trying to spy out his own plan.  
'Yeah,' he said, voice a little rough. 'Yeah, I'd like that.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I had planned to do the next Ch as the Challenge, but does anyone want a J and T forest scene beforehand, since I managed to insinuate they'd be doing that?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, somehow this happened. I blame wine. Forest scene still to come. But I couldn't help posting ;)

When Theon woke up Saturday morning, it took him a moment to place the strange tingle of excitement that was running through him. He lay in his bed, curled on to his side, quilt pulled high around his ears - it was one of the few things he had left of his mother, patterned in darting fishes and swirling water. It was faded now and pulling loose at some of the seams, but he couldn't bear to pack it away.

He snuggled into it further and tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing that day. His bed was soft and comfortable and he'd had a good night's sleep for a change - the dreams he did remember were pleasant ones. He stretched out, chasing the last thoughts of his elusive dreams and the memory of a soft smile flashed across his mind. He froze, shocked into remembering and then jerked back the covers, setting bare feet on the cold floor.  
_Jon_. He was spending the morning in the forest with Jon today. He threw a pair of pants on over the boxers he normally wore to bed and slipped into a stretched old t-shirt, grabbing some clothes for the showers.

He had a feeling he was up too early for Jon to be waiting for him - there was hardly any noise from the rooms around him as he moved down the stairs, and the common room was deserted. But the moment he stepped out of the portrait hole, grey eyes met his and the same soft smile from his dream made his knees feel weak. Then Jon glanced down and his smile grew into a smirk.  
'I didn't know you were a fan,' he said, one eyebrow raised as he eyed Theon's shirt. With a sinking feeling, Theon looked down to see he was wearing his old Winterfell Warriors shirt. He flushed a deep red. At least the picture splashed across the front was their old seeker - Jory Cassel … and not the man standing in front of him.

He deflected, 'What are you even doing here? Do you sleep outside the door now?'  
Jon shrugged, still smirking, 'Maybe.'  
Theon flushed deeper, the idea that Jon was so close to him each night - even thought he knew the man was joking - sending a flare of heat through him. He moved his clothes in front of his body and turned quickly, heading for the bathroom closest to the Gryffindor dormitories. Jon fell into step beside him as usual, but something about this morning - maybe the absence of other students - made him particularly aware of the man at his side. He could feel Jon's bare arm brushing against his and the touch sent a little spark of electricity through him, joining the heat that was rapidly pooling in his stomach and making itself felt in ways he really should try and stop when he was about to be naked a few short metres away from the man.

When they got to the suits of armour that he recognised as the entrance of the third floor bathroom, Theon pushed the grimy, worn stone in the top right corner between the two figures and the blocks in the wall melted away, revealing the entrance to the showers. He liked this bathroom because it only responded to the touch of Gryffindors and at least gave him a small level of safety when he was alone. Normally his guard - lately always Jon - went inside, checked things out and left to wait out in the corridor for him. This morning Jon checked around as usual, then finding the bathroom was empty, boosted himself up onto the bench between two sinks, leaning against the mirror. Theon sucked in his breath sharply, glancing across at Jon, who seemed to be settled in and then at the shower stall, only a few feet away.

He hesitated for a moment, then moved quickly into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door behind him. He hung his towel on the hook, put his fresh clothes on the bench and hung his shower gel over the tap. He tried very hard not to think about Jon's presence just beyond the door. He grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, wanting this to be over as soon as possible before he did something he really shouldn't. As he pulled it up over his head, Jon spoke.  
'So, did you want to practice anything in particular today?'  
Theon froze, shirt halfway over his head, that husky voice thrilling through him. He pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and threw it on the floor. _Act casual_ he scolded himself. _You can do this_.  
'Uh - yeah - um,' he wracked his brain, trying to think of what he'd been struggling with lately. But all he could think was that he was shirtless and so close to Jon Snow that he could walk out of that door and press himself against the man and just beg to be fucked. He bit his lip. _Damnit_.

He tried again, pushing his pants and boxers down over his hips as he spoke, 'Yeah that thing Pycelle was trying to get us to do, in Charms?' His cock sprang free, hard and hot, slapping softly against his stomach. He nearly moaned at the sensation.  
'The _Aparecium_ charm?' Jon asked and Theon drew in a sharp breath at hearing the man's voice while he was naked and hard. He reached out quickly to flick the tap on, hoping that the sound of running water would disguise any more embarrassing sounds he made.  
He couldn't for the life of him remember at the moment what they'd been studying but he latched on to the other man's words.  
'Yeah, that. I just can't get it.' His voice sounded almost normal and he relaxed a fraction.  
There was a pause and then Jon's voice came again as Theon stepped under the hot, sluicing stream.  
'Yeah I'm not great at it either, but a revealing charm might be hard to do out in the Forest. Like we don't have a subject for it?'

Jon's voice was unmuted by the running water - it seemed like he was speaking louder to accommodate for it and Theon cursed silently. He let the water run over his naked body as he replied.  
'Yeah. You're right. Maybe something else then.' It was all he could do. He stood under the hot water, wanting desperately to grab himself - to stroke his aching cock … to imagine Jon opening the door … coming into the shower behind him … He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. He needed to do this quickly. In and out. Jon didn't want him like that. They were friends now … or starting to be. He didn't want to ruin that.

He reached for his shower gel, soaping up his hands and running them over his face and through his hair quickly. The shower was gloriously hot - steam billowing out from the stall. He'd always liked it like that. He realised Jon was still talking and the man's voice sent bolts of heat through him. There was something about him being naked - no one else around - his cock twitched as a stab of heat ran through him at the thought.  
'…. could maybe go over what we've been doing in Transfiguration?' Jon was saying. Theon ran his soapy hands over his shoulders and down each arm, his skin tingling from the touch. He tried to stop himself from imaging it was Jon … but he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and then hissed in a sharp breath as his hands ran across his chest, grazing over his hard nipples.  
'What do you think?' Jon asked and Theon realised he'd been too quiet.  
'Yeah - ah yep. Sounds good,' he said, with no idea what he'd just agreed to. His voice was more breathy than before, he knew. He just hoped Jon hadn't noticed.

'Okay, cool,' came the other man's voice as Theon squeezed more soap onto his palm and rubbed his hands together. He reached down to his feet and was rubbing up his calves as Jon said, 'So … do you have anyone coming for the Challenge?'  
The question distracted him for a moment and he stood up straight, frowning … 'I … probably not,' he said, deciding on honesty.  
Jon paused for a moment, before replying. 'You can hang out with my family if you want. My dad's coming down. I got an owl yesterday. And I think my Uncle Benjen is too. He's really cool.'  
Theon felt something in him stir at the enthusiasm in Jon's voice.  
'Sounds good,' he agreed, for something to say. He continued washing up his legs.  
'Theon?' came Jon's voice, and the sound of his name on the other man's lips did all sort of things to him. He felt his cock jerk as a bolt of heat shot through him.

'Hmm?' he managed, the noise sounding strangled to his own ears.  
'Thanks … for helping me, I mean. It means a lot to me.'  
Theon's hand grazed up and over his throbbing cock at these words. He couldn't help himself. He bit his lip - hard - to strangle the moan that wanted to rise in his throat.  
'That's - that's fine,' he managed to say, as he gripped his aching cock in one tight, soapy fist. He shouldn't. He knew it was wrong … but he just couldn't help it. He stroked up and down as Jon continued to talk.  
'I just - when I'm around you, things seem easier, you know?' Jon said, his husky voice travelling right through Theon, causing him to grip himself harder.  
He made a strangled sound, that he hoped could pass as someone who was washing their face in the shower or some shit … at this point he was moving beyond caring. He fisted himself hard and fast, imagining Jon standing behind him, pushing his legs apart, asking him if this was what he wanted.  
'Yes,' he whispered.

'What?' Jon asked and Theon started, pausing for a moment, wracking his brain for something to say.  
'Just - ah - thinking that we should - um - we should do something. After the next challenge is over.'  
'That's a great idea,' Jon replied. 'Robb was already talking about some sort of after party. Maybe we could invite a few of the other Hogwarts students as well this time.'  
'Uh huh,' Theon murmured as he stroked his fist up and down his aching cock, rubbing his thumb over the head with every stroke.  
'Gen's really into that Podrick guy, you know,' Jon commented and Theon managed to grunt out an agreement that he felt was passable. Every word the other man spoke now was flaring through him, throbbing all the way down to his dripping cock. He sped up the movement, hoping that the sound of the water would continue to mask it as he pushed one hand against the wall and bit into the muscles of his upper arm to stifle the cries that wanted to rip themselves from his lips.

'He seems nice. I hope he likes Gen back. He's a good guy. He deserves to be happy,' Jon's tone sounded wistful, as if he didn't know what that felt like and Theon panted out a 'yeah' as he continued to rub and tug at himself.  
'Someday, I'd like -' but then Jon broke off. Theon gasped, trying to pull scattered thoughts back together.  
'What?' he rasped.  
He could feel Jon's hesitation, him weighing up whether he should speak or not. Theon straightened up slightly, his hand slowing its frantic movement, moving slower now, but still stirring the glowing heat within him.  
'I just … I want to find someone who wants me for me. Who loves me for who I am … good and bad. You know?'  
The words stirred something deep inside Theon and for the first time he realised - with a shock - that this _thing_ … what he felt for Jon … it was more than just about his looks now, or his flying prowess. He … Jon was complex and confusing and wonderful and Theon suddenly realised he might be falling for the man.  
_Fuck_ , he thought as his hand gripped tighter, he bit into his lip and he felt the glowing warmth crystallise into hot, hot heat in his groin.

He just managed to stifle the cry that wanted to break free as his cock pulsed and he spent himself over his clenched fist. He stood there a moment, sucking in air, willing his heartbeat to stabilise and his knees to stop trembling.  
'Theon?' came Jon's voice, as though he was afraid he'd said to much and made Theon uncomfortable.  
Theon forced his scattered thoughts back to order and he straightened up, rinsing his hand under the running water.  
'You'll find the right person,' he said, his voice hardly wavering, though he could feel something inside him crying out to say what he was really feeling. 'One day.'  
He felt, more than heard, Jon's sigh. 'One day.'


	18. Chapter 18

Theon dressed slowly, pulling on jeans and a soft grey, v-neck shirt, feeling loose and relaxed. He ran the towel over his hair one last time - it was longer than he was used to, flopping down over his forehead now and curling loosely around the back of his ears and down his neck - then he gathered up his things and stepped out of the stall. He glanced with deliberate casualness across at Jon and caught sight of himself in the mirror behind the other man. Jon was giving him a sideways glance, eyes wider than normal, and he immediately knew why. He looked _wrecked_. His hair was tousled from the quick dry he had given it, his lips were red and bitten, his cheeks still flushed with heat and he had a dazed little smile on his face. He sobered quickly, clearing his throat and moving for the door, not wanting to meet Jon's eyes.

The other man didn't say anything as they walked back to the portrait of the Fat Lady but Theon kept catching him darting looks across. Jon's eyes were dark and his tattoos were swirling again. They made Theon think of a wolf, perking forward with interest, as though it had caught a scent that it wanted to track. He felt a little thrill of excitement at the thought and had to remind himself - again - that Jon had other conquests on his mind. 

When they got to the portrait, Theon ducked up to his room to tidy his hair, throw his dirty clothes in a corner and pull a jacket out of his trunk. Jon might be all about the Northern winters, but it was late November now and there was a bit more cold in the air than he was comfortable with. He tucked his wand in his pocket and jogged back down the stairs, heart tripping slightly again at the thought of the morning to come. 

They stopped briefly at the Great Hall to grab something to take with them. Theon nibbled on a piece of toast, but Jon made himself up a bacon and egg roll with cheese and relish, biting into it with a small moan of pleasure that went straight to Theon's cock. He cursed silently and looked away, crunching down on his dry toast.  
'You Southerners can definitely cook,' Jon said - not for the first time - as they walked.  
'You make it sound like all you lot ever eat is raw hunks of meat and seal blubber,' Theon teased lightly, thinking of a conversation he'd had with Ygritte and Tormund about their childhoods.  
Jon shrugged, taking another bite out of his roll, 'Ishu fits,' he mumbled through a mouthful.  
Theon raised an eyebrow at him. Jon swallowed his mouthful and Theon's own mouth went dry for a moment to see the other man's throat working.  
'I said, if the shoe fits,' Jon said with a grin. 'There's some pretty crazy folks up North.'  
'Are you missing it?' Theon asked suddenly, as they turned down the path that would lead them past Davos' hut and into the Forbidden Forest.

Jon seemed to be considering the question as he polished off the rest of his roll, licking the grease from his fingers one by one. Theon tore his eyes away from the sight and threw the remainder of his toast to one side as an image of him sucking those strong, rough fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue over them, biting down lightly and making Jon shiver beneath him, flashed into his mind.  
The other man's voice broke into his thoughts, 'Yeah, there are some things I miss. Even when I'm at school, I'm not always in the North. The last three or four years I've spent a few months at a time training and competing. Most of the big league stuff is down here, so -' he shrugged again.

'But, I miss - I like how _big_ everything is at home. How empty. Sometimes you can travel for hours without seeing any one or any thing. It's like - you can imagine you're in your own little world. Anything you want to do could be possible out there.' He broke off, flushing and looking unaccountably shy.  
'The Iron Islands are like that,' Theon said suddenly, surprising himself. 'Pyke, not so much. But I used to sail out to Saltcliffe and Blacktyde and the whole day it would be just me - the only living soul on a hunk of rock out in the middle of the ocean. I loved it. When I got older …' he paused, not sure if he should say more.  
Jon looked across at him, interest obvious in his clear, grey eyes. He gave a small, encouraging smile.  
Theon drew in a breath and continued. 'Things at home … my mum died when I was just about to start my second year of Hogwarts. She was out with my brothers … Rodrick and Maron and they all …' he cleared his through roughly. The thought of their losses still sent stabbing pain through him.  
'Anyway, after that. Things at home … weren't great. My dad wasn't much of a father figure to start with.' He snorted humourlessly at the understatement. 'But without mum he was a fucking nightmare. Then my uncles all started hounding him about making them a part of the business … and, well. When I wasn’t needed to work on one of his fishing boats, I spent a lot of time camping out on those Islands when I had to come home from Hogwarts.'

'That sucks,' Jon offered quietly as they continued walking.  
Theon shrugged, 'It is what it is. For a while things here were good. For a few years actually. My brothers were both in Slytherin, and a bunch of their friends had younger brothers or sisters that looked out for me after they were gone. But -' He broke off, realising that his chain-of-thought speaking had taken him into dangerous waters.  
'Bolton,' Jon said flatly, not a question.  
Theon sighed in agreement, but to his relief, Jon didn't pursue it further. 

They had reached the tree line, and as they stepped into the Forest, three huge shapes came barrelling up to them - or rather, to Jon. Theon stepped back a few paces, still wary of the huge wolves. They knocked into Jon, jumping up and him and rubbing their furry heads on him in delight. Jon laughed softly, scruffing the fur of each in turn, 'Hey Grey, Hey Nym,' he greeted happily. Then he dropped to his knees and opened his arms and the massive white wolf stepped forward, pushing its chest against Jon's and draping its head over his shoulder. It closed its glowing red eyes and rumbled in contentment as he rubbed the fur on its neck. They stayed like that for a long moment - Jon seeming to draw comfort from the animal's presence.

When they broke apart, Jon stood and turned to Theon with a jerk of his head and a smile. They walked together into the Forest, the wolves running ahead of them, and Theon said, 'I meant to ask you last time I saw them - what's the story with the wolves anyway? You all have them?'  
Jon nodded, 'Nymeria is Arya's and Grey Wind is Robb's. My half-sister Sansa has Lady, Bran has Summer and little Rickon has Shaggydog.' Theon laughed at the name. Jon chuckled too, 'Yeah he was pretty young when he chose it.'  
'Wolves though?' Theon asked. 'I mean I know you Northerners are savage brutes and all that, but aren't they kinda dangerous pets for kids?'  
Jon shook his head, 'They're not pets, not really. Familiars might be a better word. They chose us and we chose them. We all feel safer when we have our wolves around us. Summer saved Bran's life once, actually.'

'Wow,' Theon said, watching the animals run through the trees, and Jon began to tell him the story of how they'd found the animals as pups and how Bran had been recovering from a fall when a rival family had sent a hunter after him.  
'Life's pretty full on for you guys,' Theon commented when he'd finished.  
Jon shrugged, 'It is what it is,' he said, mirroring Theon's earlier words with a small smile.

They reached the clearing that Theon had found Jon in a few weeks before and Jon looked around, gathering a few rocks and sticks before lowering himself gracefully to the ground on a patch of grass. Theon, who still couldn't remember what he'd agreed to practice today when he'd been in the showers, lowered himself down beside the other man wordlessly.  
'So,' Jon said, picking up one of the rocks. ' _Evanesco_?'  
'The vanishing spell,' Theon said, relieved he'd remembered.  
Jon nodded. 'Have you managed it yet?' The look on his face said he knew Theon hadn't. Theon made a face in return, 'The best I've got was making my paperweight a bit hazy around the edges. I can't believe some people have moved on to mice.'

'Tell me about it,' Jon muttered, putting the rock down on the grass in front of them and scooting around a bit until he was sitting beside Theon, Jon's shoulder and knee brushing lightly against his. He suppressed the warmth that rose instinctively in him in response to this casual touch. It was like nowadays he was constantly on a low simmer of arousal, and it only took the lightest spark of a look, or a touch or a word from Jon to set him off.

The other man didn't even seem to have noticed how close he had moved. He pulled his wand from the thin holster strapped to his outer thigh and pointed it at the rock, ' _Evanesco_ ,' he said sharply, as he poked his wand forward. They both looked at the rock, which showed no signs of being any less present than before. Jon sighed and tried again, and again, his face reddening with a faint flush of embarrassment. He glanced at Theon from the corner of his eye and Theon tried to keep his own face encouraging.

Finally he sighed and slumped back, his body a warm presence all along Theon's side now. Theon had become more and more distracted watching the concentration on Jon's face, the play of muscles in his arm, the determination in his voice. The heat beside him was fast becoming a delicious torment and images of him pushing Jon back onto the grass, straddling his hips and grinding down against him had begun to float into his mind.  
'Your turn,' Jon broke into his thoughts and Theon's eyes darted up to meet the other man's guiltily.

He cleared his throat, looking away, trying to concentrate on the rock. He pulled his own wand out and leaned forward, trying to pull his scattered focus back and direct it towards the small rock.  
His hand flowed forward with a little kick at the end as he said ' _Evanesco_ ' in a husky, but clear voice. To the amazement of both of them, the rock immediately shrunk in size. Theon looked closer at it, _No, not shrunk-_  
'You vanished it!' Jon said in an excited voice, leaning forward onto his knees, bumping his shoulder against Theon again. 'Or part of it, anyway. That's brilliant. What did you do?'  
His face was open and excited and Theon ached with the need to lean in an kiss him - to share his excitement and pleasure, but he didn't - he couldn't.

He focused on the question - it was safer. 'I … have no idea,' he admitted with a frown, sitting back and trying to put a little distance between them. For the sake of his sanity.  
'Try again,' Jon said, still on his knees, looking intently at the rock.  
Theon nodded mutely and held his wand at the ready, repeating the spell. This time the entire rock vanished before their eyes.  
Jon reached back and put a hand on Theon's thigh, squeezing in excitement. 'That's so cool. You need to show me how, okay.'  
Theon's throat went dry at the touch. He could feel the heat of Jon's hand burning through his jeans, like it was connected in a line directly to his cock.  
'Okay,' he rasped, licking his lips. He pushed forward onto his knees as well, so glad that today he was wearing thick jeans, which did something to hide how much Jon's touch affected him.  
'I think -' he started, taking a deep breath. 'I think the difference is the movement. You're doing like a stabbing movement. Mine is a bit smoother.'

Jon looked at him, eyes serious, nodding. Then he pushed another rock into place and tried the spell again, sweeping his movement this time. He growled in frustration as nothing happened.  
'It's …' Theon hesitated, hands hovering, before he angled his body slightly so that he was kneeling beside Jon, one knee on either sides of his hip. He reached out, putting his own hand Jon's wand hand.  
'Do you mind if I …?'  
Jon swallowed and shook his head, not taking his eyes off the rock.  
Theon could feel heat rocketing through him at being so close to Jon. He could _smell_ him, feel the other man's heat all up his body. His grip tightened slightly on Jon's hand and he demonstrated the movement he'd been making.  
'It's more like _this_ ,' he murmured. Jon nodded, biting down on his lip for a moment before he repeated the motion, with Theon's hand still resting lightly on his.

'That's it,' Theon said, as he took his own hand away. He couldn't bring himself to move away though. Jon took a deep breath and Theon thought he must be imagining the slight shakiness in the sound.  
' _Evanesco_ ', Jon said as he waved his wand, and his voice was a low growl that went straight to Theon's groin. The rock in front of him vanished and so did the patch of grass under it and the collection of sticks sitting off to one side of it.

Jon turned straight to Theon, triumph lighting up his face as he celebrated his success. His abrupt movement brought them even closer together and Jon seemed to realise for the first time that he was now almost pressed against Theon's body, their faces just inches from each other. Theon caught and held his breath at the look in the other man's eyes. There was heat and want written across his face and his eyes flicked from Theon's, down to his mouth for the barest second. It took everything he had for Theon to stop himself just pushing forward and crushing their lips together. Only the memory of the disgust on Jon's face every time he's had to deal with people chasing him around the castle drooling over him, held him back. He didn't want Jon to see him like that. 

The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity, then Jon blinked and seemed to come back to himself. He pushed back until he was sitting on the grass again, a foot or so away from Theon and rubbed a hand through his dark curls, breathing in deeply.  
Theon closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself, and then did the same.  
'So,' Jon said, after a minute, voice still husky. 'That one seems to be okay. What's next?'

\----

They practiced for a few more hours, a deliberate distance between them this time, though the conversation, comparisons and brainstorming still flowed as easily as ever. Theon felt some of his tension easing at the thought that he hadn't fucked things up between them. Eventually, Jon looked across at him.  
'Do you want to go back and get some lunch and then come out in the afternoon to have a go at the spells for the Challenge?' the dark-haired man asked, voice and face both looking somehow hopeful.  
Theon nodded emphatically … any time with Jon alone was worth it - he just had to keep himself under control. He'd done it the last few hours. He could keep doing it the rest of the day. 'Definitely. I know what spell I want now, but it's one I haven't had much practice with. If I'm facing a fire breathing monstrosity in a few days … I want to know this is going to work.'

Jon reached out to clasp him on the shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, innocent and one Theon had seen Robb do to Jon a hundred times before … but Theon could feel the warmth and strength of the other man's hand through his layers of clothing. He pushed a smile on to his face and stopped himself from reaching out and pulling the dark-haired man closer, getting both hands on his body … however briefly.  
'You're going to do great at the Challenge,' Jon said, smiling into Theon's eyes with breathtaking sincerity. He felt his heart trip a beat, and just for a moment, he saw himself as Jon did. He believed, for a shining instant that he _could_ do this. He felt the grin stretch wider across his face.  
'Let's go,' he said, moving back out towards the sunlight, Jon walking easily beside him.

\----

As they made their way back up to the castle, dark eyes watched their path through the grounds with ice-cold purpose and words that nobody else heard were whispered.

'Not long now, pet.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is the dragons :D
> 
> Can't wait!


	19. Chapter 19

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Theon found himself getting more and more anxious each day - not just at the idea of facing a dragon, but at doing it in front of the whole school. And Ramsey was giving him the creeps as well - even more than usual. Every time Theon caught the other man's eyes on him, Ramsey wore this dark smirk that just made Theon _nervous_. Anything that made Bolton happy was something that he needed to be scared of, he was sure of that.

The others were all really good. Jon had obviously told them what he was up against and Robb and Gen offered regular words of encouragement to Jon, making sure to include Theon in the positive messaging; Ygritte had taken them both aside to give them the few pieces of information she had about Ice Dragons; and Arya - well her frequent jokes about his skinny little arms being like pigeon wings and therefore inedible weren't exactly helping … but he appreciated the thought. Even the teachers had been relatively subdued this week - he didn't think he'd received a single piece of homework. Some of the concerned looks he was getting made his nerves wind tighter though.

Before he knew it, it was Thursday night and he was lying in bed in the dark, staring up at the faded canopy of his four-poster and trying to calculate how many hours it was before he looked a dragon in the eyes. It was a long time before he fell asleep and when he did, his dreams were restless, filled with vague images of being chased through the dark by giant teeth and hot, hot breath.

The day of the Challenge, he was up before dawn and it seemed he had beaten even Jon out of bed for once. He showered quickly and made his way down to the Great Hall alone, for lack of anything better to do. He was just crossing the entry hall when Bolton fell into step beside him, coming up the corridor from the Slytherin dormitories.  
'Good morning, Theon,' he said, his voice lingering with relish over Theon's name. He shivered unintentionally. He couldn't remember the last time the other man had called him by his actual name. Bolton took a step closer and Theon shied away instinctively.  
'Don't be like that,' Bolton said with a toothy grin, 'If you can't even walk with me, you're not going to be much good this afternoon, are you?'

'I'll be fine,' Theon muttered, surprising himself.  
Bolton's grin widened at the tiny bit of fight, 'Oh pet,' he said, voice sickeningly insincere, 'You're a half rate wizard at the best of times. You're not going to be fine.' He paused and his eyes glowed darkly as he said with relish, 'You'll be lucky if you're _alive_ come the end of the day.'  
Theon felt the words like a blow, hitting him hard in the guts. They dredged up every thought he'd been trying to push away since his name came out of the Goblet. He felt sick horror churning through him. _I can't do this_ , he thought, panic filling him. _I can't. I need - I have to get out!_ He caught a faint gleam of satisfaction on Bolton's face as he whirled on his heel and ran from the entrance hall, out into the grounds.  
Ramsey’s mocking voice followed him, and he didn’t know if the words were said out loud or just echoed in his head. ‘Reek, Reek ... it rhymes with _weak_.’ 

He ran until his breath was tearing in his chest, trying to escape from something he knew he had no option but to face. Eventually his steps took him down a familiar path to the lake and he sat on a rocky outcropping over the water, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them as he stared vacantly out over the vast expanse.

\---

He had no idea how much later it was when a voice behind him made him jump in surprise.  
'Still as predictable as ever, Böe.'  
The warmth in the voice, and the gently teasing tone told him immediately who was approaching, and Theon jerked his head up, turning around with a disbelieving smile.  
'Ash!' he said, jumping to his feet and closing the distance between them to enfold his big sister in a hug. 'What are you doing here?'  
She pushed him away gently, 'Someone told me my little bro is preforming some amazing magical feat in front of hundreds of people today. That's more than any Greyjoy can claim in … well probably forever. As if I'd miss it. Besides, I have a few things Davos is keen to look at.'  
Suddenly Theon realised who the 'someone' was that had got in touch with Asha and he felt warmth flow through him.

He stepped back to have a look at his sister. She was as toned and tanned as ever, tight black pants over leather boots and a light green shirt, open at the neck. Over it all she wore her sleeveless robes, open all down the front and patterned in a way that always made him think of fish scales. He thought about teasing her again at being the daughter of a fisherman and wearing a fish suit by choice, but he was too happy to see her to want to rile her straight away.  
It seemed she had no such compunctions, 'What are you doing hiding down here anyway?' she asked, looking him up and down, noting his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes.  
Theon flushed, 'I'm not hiding,' he muttered.  
'Böe, this has been your hiding place since like the first week of school.' She was edging into her no-nonsense big sister voice.

He sighed, knowing from many years of experience that getting straight to the point would be less painful.  
'I can't do it,' he said quietly, looking away, feeling shame flood through him at the admission.  
Asha stepped forward, one hand reaching for Theon's face. She tipped his chin up so he was forced to look into her eyes. Her face was deadly serious and her voice was hard.  
'Theon, you're a fucking Greyjoy. You can do whatever the fuck you want to.' She could see he wasn't convinced and her mouth hardened.  
'Davos writes to me too, you know. Regularly.' Theon swallowed at the words. 'If even half of what he says is true, you're the toughest person I know, Böe.' She paused for a moment to let that sink in. Theon gave a small nod. He hadn’t looked at it that way before.  
She gave a half smile, letting go of his chin to scruff her hand through his hair. 'Good. Now get your arse back up there and wipe the floor with those bastards.'  
He pushed her away, protesting loudly, but his heart felt lighter as they walked back up to the Castle side-by-side.

\-----

When he re-entered the Castle, a harried looking Samwell Tarly rushed straight up to him, gasping.  
'Theon! There you are. I've been looking all over the castle for you. You have to go straight to the Trophy Room. All the Champions are there. Quickly.'  
Tarly didn't even seem to have noticed Asha, who snorted slightly at his flushed face and panting breath as he hurried away, expecting them to follow. They exchanged glanced and with a shrug, both followed at a normal pace. Theon felt his nerves calming the longer he was around his sister. She was just that sort of person. Like a rock in a storm. Nothing phased her.  
They entered the Trophy Room to a sea of faces, many unfamiliar. Theon's eye was immediately drawn by Jon, who looked happier and more relaxed than he had seen him before. He was talking with a distinguished looking man with dark brown hair, going to grey, and thick fur-lined robes. Beside them stood the Durmstrang Headmaster and another man - dark haired and rangy, dressed all in black. The resemblance between the three was striking and Theon realised this must be Jon's father and his uncle.  
Theon smiled to see him so animated, gesturing and smiling as he spoke to them both.

His gaze widened to take in the rest of the room's occupants. The two other Ministry officials from the first feast were present too. The big one with the bushy beard and hair - a Baratheon he remembered vaguely - was helping himself to a goblet of wine and as Theon looked away, he elbowed the shorter, bald one and boomed out, 'May as well make the most of it, eh Spidey! Don't get the likes of _this_ at the Ministry, do we now.'  
Theon realised uncomfortably that Roose Bolton - the Minister for Magic himself - was present as he looked over at the loud, brash voice, a faint curl of distaste on his lip. But he said nothing, returning his attention to Lord Tywin, who he was talking intently with in a low voice. He didn't seem to have any interest in his son, standing over by the fireplace alone.  
At the window, the Beauxbaton Headmistress, in her customary red dress, was speaking to Daenerys and an older couple with the same long silver hair, striking violet eyes and regal good looks as she had. Theon's gaze didn't linger on them. It was creepy the way they all looked so similar … like increased likelihood of future mutated children creepy.

He heard a snigger beside him and had a feeling Asha was thinking exactly the same thing. At the sound, Lord Tywin glanced across and registered Theon's presence. His eyes narrowed slightly and the Minister noticed his gaze and looked across too. Theon shivered slightly under their regard. Asha touched him lightly on the back and he took a calming breath.

The Hogwarts Headmaster took a step forward, raising his voice to speak. 'Now that we are all here,' his voice held a hint of anger and Theon flushed slightly. He saw Jon turn towards the sound and his eyes locked on Theon's, tension that Theon hadn’t realised was in the other man's stance leaving him abruptly. Jon gave him a small smile which Theon couldn't help return. He could see Asha looking between them out of the corner of his eye but he studiously ignored her.  
'I would like to outline the proceedings for the afternoon. We will progress down to the tents shortly, where families will be asked to wait in the stands.' He flashed a small, dry smile. 'The Champions will be asked to change into robes for the competition, your wands will be weighed and the order of competition will be determined.'  
He looked around the room, eyes serious. 'While the other Champions are competing, you will not be able to see what is occurring. If you attempt to repeat the actions of a Champion that competed before you, you will loose points for the attempt. You will be judged today on how quickly you achieve your goal, as well as how skilfully you demonstrate your magical knowledge and ability to think creatively when faced with danger.'

He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each Champion in turn. 'Any questions?'  
Theon shook his head, mouth abruptly dry again. No one else spoke. 'Right. Let's proceed then shall we?' The Headmaster said as he gestured that the Minister for Magic should exit first. Theon and Asha stood aside to let the others pass and when Jon and his party approached, they paused for a moment.  
'Dad, this is Theon. Theon Greyjoy - the guy I was telling you about,' Jon said, gesturing at Theon as he spoke to his dad. Then he turned back to Theon, 'This is my dad, Ned and my uncle, Benjen.' Theon felt a jolt of surprise flick though him. _Jon told his dad about me? Told him what?_ he wondered. And then, _why?_  
Asha seemed to be wondering the same thing, she elbowed him subtly, but painfully, in the ribs. 'Ah - this is my sister,' he said, glaring slightly at her. 'Asha.'

'Nice to meet you all,' Asha said, extending a hand to each of them in turn, shaking confidently. She looked at Jon last, eyeing him up and down. 'Theon's told me a lot about you, too,' she said, with a cat-like grin. Theon's glare deepened. He hadn’t even spoken to his sister since the new school year started.  
'Ash,' Theon hissed warningly, as Jon's eyes flew up to his, the same surprise he'd felt, echoed in them.  
'We need to go,' he said quickly, grabbing his sister's arm and towing her out the door before she could do more damage. 'I don't want to be the last to arrive again.'  
They made their way through the strangely empty castle. The only sign of life Theon saw was old Frey's cat, Castamere, darting around a corner. Theon walked quickly, his sister at his side, wanting to avoid further chances for her to get to Jon, who followed not far behind, talking quietly with his dad and uncle.

As they moved over the grounds, Theon started to get nervous again. There was a roar of sound coming from up ahead. The combined surge of hundreds of excited voices. Asha noticed his tension and put one arm around him, leaning in.  
'You have a plan right?' she said in a low voice. He nodded mutely, not trying his voice at this point.  
'Good,' she said. 'You'll be fine Böe. Just stick to your plan and I'll drink you under the table tonight when this is all done.' She paused, looking at him with eyebrows raised.  
'There's going to be a party, right?'  
Theon nodded again, remembering vaguely the plans for an after party to the official school celebrations.  
'Excellent,' she said, gripping his shoulders tighter. 'Do the rest of the Durmstrangs look as good as lover-boy back there?' she asked, an interested light in her eyes all of a sudden. Theon had a sudden image of his sister and Ygritte and resolved to do everything he possibly could to make sure they never met.

He was saved from having to answer her by the sight that greeted them as they passed through a small stretch of the Forest that opened up into what was normally a large, grassy field. Except that now a huge stadium rose out of the middle of it, and it was from here that the roar of sound was coming. As they approached it, a large, leather clad woman with short blonde hair strode from around the edge of the stadium. She went right up to Lord Tywin and the Ministry officials and began speaking, not bothering to lower her voice.  
'Sir, there's a problem with the Black. It hasn't taken well to being moved. We're concerned it's too dangerous.'  
The Headmaster opened his mouth to speak but the Minister for Magical Games and Sports spoke over the top of him. 'Nonsense, nonsense,' he boomed. 'It's all a bit of fun, now isn't it. Wouldn't be much of a challenge if there was no danger, now, would it.'

Lord Tywin opened his mouth again but this time it was Roose Bolton who spoke. 'The Challenge proceeds.' His voice was cold and flat. The big woman's face went hard and she turned without another word, striding away again. Theon glanced around to see Jon looking after her. The other man turned, and when their eyes met, he saw Jon looked just as nervous as he was.

'Right,' Lord Tywin said, interrupting the look. 'Families into the stairs to the right please. Champions and judges up to the left. Get changed and we will meet you in the main pavilion.'  
Theon swallowed and turned to Asha, whose face now bore a hint of worry. But she hid it with a smile, punching him lightly in the arm. 'Number one, baby brother.'

He climbed the stairs and paused in a small room to get changed. There was a set of red and gold pants and a jacket, padded with leather and the name _Greyjoy_ was stitched across the back. He picked them up and stepped behind a small curtain, quickly shrugging out of his normal clothes and into them. They fitted well and the thickness of the leather gave him a tiny measure of reassurance, though he knew it would do nothing against dragon fire.

He continued into the main tent and saw Bolton already there, dressed in green and silver. His wand was lying on a table at the front of the room and Theon went up to place his beside it. Jon and Daenerys entered soon after. The former all in black and the latter in a cold silver. When their wands were at the front of the room as well, the Sports Minister stepped forward.  
'Right now, best get on with it then, hadn't we.' He beamed around at them, not seeming the least put off that no one returned his smile.  
'Please reach into the bag one by one. What you pull out will tell you what you're doing and the order you'll be doing it in.' He offered the bag to Jon, who reached in and pulled out a clenched fist. When he uncurled it, a tiny green dragon hissed up at them all, its wings flapping. A drop of liquid fell from its mouth and sizzled slightly as he touched Jon's glove.  
'Ah, the Rhaegal,' came a soft voice from beside the Sports Minister. 'See how it spits poison instead of fire. Be very careful, Jon Snow.'  
'Thank you, Lord Varys,' Jon said quietly, flipping over the tag tied to the creatures neck. A black number two was written on it.

Daenerys drew next and her closed hand opened to reveal a thrashing White Dragon with bright blue eyes, frost forming on its breath.  
'She's beautiful,' the silver-haired woman said, stroking one hand down the tiny creatures neck. It paused in it its movement to look up at her, curious.  
'The frozen death,' Varys spoke again. 'The Ice Dragon.'  
Daenerys just smiled, flipping her tag to show a number one.

Ramsey came from the back of the room then, pushing through the others to plunge his hand into the bag. When he drew it out, his red dragon was snarling up at him, wing crooked from where he had gripped it.  
He poked it out of the way to see the number.  
'Third,' he muttered as Varys revealed that he had the Sunfyre.

Theon looked at the bag, his confidence sinking through the floor. He knew which dragon was left. They all did, judging by the silence in the room. He put his hand into the bag, wincing as sharp claws dug into his fingers.  
When he pulled his hand out, the Black Dread stood tall and proud on his palm, throwing its head back to roar into the tent. The other tiny dragons all cowered back slightly and from the corner of his eye, Theon saw Daenerys whispering to hers.

'So,' the huge, bearded Robert Baratheon said, face splitting into a grin. 'It's dragons, obviously. Each of them has a clutch of eggs to guard. One of those eggs though - that's your challenge. And your next clue. You need to get the golden egg off your dragon in any which way you can! Sounds great, doesn't it!'  
Theon grimaced. It sounded like the worst thing he'd ever heard.

'Best get to it then. Your wands have all been checked now and are on the table. I'm announcing, so I'd best get out there,' the big man said. He looked at Daenerys and his grin faded. 'They'll be bringing the Ice into the arena now. There will be a horn when we're ready for you.'

With that all of the adults left the tent and it was suddenly quiet. The four of them moved to collect their wands and then stood apart. Even Ramsey seemed lost for words. It seemed only a few short seconds before the horn rang out. Daenerys flashed them all a small smile before she moved to the tent flap, parting it and disappearing.

A moment later, a magically magnified voice boomed out. It was muffled by the tent but Theon could still hear Robert Baratheon speaking.  
'Welcome to the first Challenge of the Triwizard Tournament. Our first Challenger of the day is Daenerys Targaryen and her goal is to take the golden egg you see there, between that massive Ice Dragon's legs. Looks like a dangerous brute. Fun fact - the Ice Dragon's breath is so cold that it can snap freeze a person. One blast and you're an ice block. There's no coming back from that!'  
Then his voice broke off and there was a murmuring from the crowd.  
'What's this now? The girl hasn't even got her wand out? What are you doing girl! This is no joke.'  
There was another silence. Even the crowd was quiet now. And then, 'Oh, I don't believe it. She's just walking up to it. She's looking it right in the eye and just walking up to it. What's that she's saying? Some foreign nonsense - '  
Suddenly there was the sound of a short scuffle and then a new voice came quietly over the stadium. Theon recognised Lord Varys' soft tones.

'She is speaking High Valyrian. The words she is saying mean "Hello mother, I give greetings to you. I mean you and your children no harm."'  
There was another struggling sound and then Baratheon's voice was back, though less exuberant than before.  
'Is that allowed? Is that some sort of Dragon language? Have we checked the rules for this - My god, now she's bowing to it. She doesn't even have her eyes on the - _mother fucker_ it's bowing back. What - oh - language right.'  
There was a pause and Theon strained to head what might be happening. Then a roar of sound broke out over the stadium.  
'I. Don’t. Believe. It,' Baratheon's voice came. 'She has the egg. And in less than five minutes. Well - well, we'll need to check the rules before we can score that one. I'm really not sure -' his voice was cut off abruptly.

Theon released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His eyes sought out Jon as he realised with a jolt that the other man would be next. Jon's eyes met his and then flicked across to Ramsey, as though he'd just registered that when he left the tent, he would be leaving Theon alone in it with Bolton. He stepped in closer to Theon, standing right in front of him and lowering his voice, 'Will you be alright?' he asked quietly.  
Theon nodded quickly, shooting a glance at Ramsey, who was watching the two of them with dark eyes, though he made no move towards them.

Suddenly Jon surprised Theon, closing the distance between them completely as he raised his arms and pulled Theon into a tight hug. His mouth was right against Theon's ear and he murmured, 'I'll get this done as quickly as I can. I'll get him out of the tent.' Theon nodded against Jon's cheek, bringing his own arms up hesitantly to return the hug. Jon felt so good in his arms. So right. Somehow the fact that he was about to face Bolton and then a dragon mattered a little less right in that instant, with Jon hot and close against him.  
'Be safe,' Jon whispered, and his voice sounded strained.

A sudden flash of light and burst of smoke broke them apart and they both looked across in surprise to see Petyr Baelish poke his head through a flap in the tent, following the camera he held in his hands. 'Just a quick behind the scenes, lads,' he said with a satisfied grin. 'My readers want the full story of the Challenge, after all.'  
At that moment, the horn blew and it was Jon's turn to go. Baelish disappeared with his camera to document the action. Jon turned to Theon one more time, eyes full of things he didn't have time to say. He raised a hand briefly, but the horn sounded again. He turned and pushed through the curtains. And then he was gone.

Theon looked across at Ramsey, trepidation filling him, but the other man didn't make a move. He just stood, leaning casually against one of the poles of the pavilion, watching Theon with dark, dark eyes. Theon moved away from him anyway. To the other side of the tent. He stood with his back to the pole and his eyes glued to Bolton, who smiled widely.

Then Baratheon's voice filled the stadium and the tent again. 'And here he is ladies and gentlemen. The man you've all been waiting for. The youngest Seeker of an Age, three time Quidditch Cup winning, Jooooon Snowwww!' Baratheon's voice boomed and Theon couldn't help making a face at the thought of what Jon would be thinking at that introduction.  
'He's got his wand out, but what does our Quidditch champion have planned. He's cast a spell. I didn't quite catch what it was. It doesn't seem to have had any effect on the Rhaegal though. No, it's spitting acid straight at him. But he's dived out of the way. Oh, look at those rocks smoking. Snow's on the move again. The Rhaegal doesn't seem happy he's there. Oh and it's spat again. Nasty stuff that. Eat your bones in moments! Snow wants to make some sort of move. The clock is ticking after all.'

Theon's stomach clenched as he listened. He knew Jon's plan, he just hoped against hope that it would work. Then the commentators voice rocked through the stadium again. 'What's this now? It looks like - It is! Ingenious. Ladies and gentlemen he's called his firebolt! And now he's on the broom! This is more like it.' A hearty laugh rang out over the arena.  
Theon was watching Bolton still and he saw the other man's face darken with anger at the sounds of Jon's success.  
'Look at that boy fly. He's like a dancer in the air. That Rhaegal has no hope now. He's running rings around her. Look at the way he's teasing her, trying to get her up off the ground and off those eggs. But - yes - it seems to be working. I think she's going to take to the air.'  
There was a ringing silence and Theon held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut despite himself.  
Then, 'YES! He's done it Ladies and Gentlemen. He has the egg! My, what a superb piece of flying. And didn't take him much longer than our first Champion either.' Baratheon's voice sounded belligerent with that last comment.

Theon let out a huge sigh of relief. Jon was okay. Jon was okay and he had his egg. He opened his eyes and jumped to see Ramsey right in front of his face. The man must have crossed the tent silently.  
Ramsey reached out and gripped his chin, hard. Theon froze and Bolton grinned slowly, as if savouring his fear. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips against Theon's, biting down on Theon's bottom lip so that he tasted blood, hot and metallic. Theon cried out in pain and revulsion and tried to pull himself away. Bolton let go of him abruptly and Theon staggered back a step into the pole, one hand coming up to his mouth.

Ramsey smiled more widely, a trace of Theon's blood staining his teeth and then he turned to step from the tent. 'It's almost a shame, what will happen next,' he said over his shoulder. Then he turned back to face Theon for a moment, face holding a twisted sort of regret that chilled him more than the anger ever could. 'I'll miss you, pet,' came his words as the horn blew and he stepped out, leaving Theon alone.

Theon stood, hand at his mouth, blood pounding through his ears and his breath coming hard and fast. He tried to push away his panic and shock at the sudden, unwanted touch and _think_. What had Bolton meant, _'What will happen next?_ He tried to tune out the loud commentary and concentrate. He couldn't think about Bolton's words. _He's just trying to scare me,_ he told himself. _Forget it and concentrate on what's coming next_.

Then a scream of reptilian rage and loss rent the air and Theon jerked his head up. Robert Baratheon's voice pierced through the tent. 'He'll loose points for that. Might have been an accident, but breaking eggs like that. Not the aim of the Challenge at all. Oh, now here's a piece of clever magic though. He's shadowed himself. That poor Sunfyre, she thinks she's chasing the boy who broke her eggs, but no - no, he's got it! Bolton has collected his golden egg. That's it Ladies and Gentlemen, he's completed the Challenge.'  
Theon's heart sank. Bolton had come through unscathed. And by playing dirty by the sounds of it. He spared a small piece of sympathy for that poor mother dragon. He had no doubt the action had not been an accident. Though of course Bolton would claim differently.

Then Baratheon's voice rang out again, 'What - look out boy! She's coming back! Where are those handlers! Stun her! Now.' There was another vicious roar of anger and pain and then screams from in the crowd as Theon saw the tent light up from the outside and felt the radiant heat of a dragon's hot breath.  
Flashes of red light, shouts and movement made everything a confusion for a few seconds and then Baratheon's voice rang out again. 'He's okay. They have the Sunfyre down and he's okay. Maybe a little singed but that's a small price compared to what we could have seen. Good shield charm, lad.'

Theon cringed. Damn Bolton and his damned magic. The man was good at everything. For the fraction of a second there, Theon had dared to hope - had dared to imagine that it might all be over.

Then Robert Baratheon's voice came back and Theon felt his heart ratchet up into his throat and his palms start to sweat. 'In moments, ladies and gentlemen, you will meet our fourth dragon. You think the others were something to be afraid of. The Black Dread is the biggest, most vicious, most protective dragon we have. You've heard muggles say never get between a mother bear and her cubs? You're about to see what happens when someone gets between a Black Dread and her eggs.'  
He paused to allow his words to sink in and Theon swallowed heavily.  
'I promise you, ladies and gentlemen,' Baratheon's voice rang out, low and solemn. 'It won't be pretty.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ram's still hanging around. #sorrynotsorry


	20. Chapter 20

The horn blew. It was loud. Louder than the others had been, he was sure. It was immediately followed by a deafening scream of rage as the dragon outside the tent voiced its displeasure. Theon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gripping his wand in a white knuckled fist.  
The horn blew again and he forced himself to suck in a deep, shuddering breath and open his eyes. He straightened his shoulders and thought of Asha … thought of Jon. He could do this. He stepped forward, parting the heavy flaps of the tent and squinting against the bright light. His eyes adjusted quickly and then widened as he took in the arena for the first time.

It was a pit filled with huge slabs of rock. Around the sides the stands rose high, filled with hundreds of students in a sea of black, interspersed with House colours. There was another ear-shattering roar and Theon's gaze jerked across to the Black Dread. He swallowed heavily as it rose up on its back legs, beating its huge black wings through the air. He was around fifty metres away from it and it towered over him, its scales gleaming in the sunlight. Its massive, spiked head whipped around as it assessed the threats all around it. It thumped back down to the ground and Theon felt the earth shake under his feet from its weight. It leaned forward onto its forelegs, wings shooting up into the air behind it, stretched its jagged, serpentine neck out and _hissed_ at the crowd.

There was barely any movement from the assembled people - even the commentary was strangely absent - and Theon didn’t spare them a glance. He had no time - no thoughts to spare - for anything but achieving his goal … and staying alive while he did.  
It hadn't seen him and he forced himself to move, stepping away from the tent and moving quickly off to his right where he could see a path down the rocks, to the bottom of the arena. As he moved down it, he looked ahead, mind working frantically, trying to see the best way through the obstacle course of rocks - to the golden egg that he somehow had to steal. He needed to get as close as possible before it noticed him.

He moved more quickly, one eye on the huge beast, whose head was still moving from side to side - watching what it clearly perceived as the greatest threat against it at the moment. In less than a minute, he was on the floor of the stadium and he moved quickly behind a massive slab of granite, knowing that it offered little protection against a dragon's fire, but feeling a small measure of safety nonetheless. He glanced around it, saw the dragon still distracted and darted forward to the next one, and then the next.

The crowd was murmuring now, excitement spreading, and when the magically amplified commentary broke out, Theon jumped as it startled him.  
'Greyjoy's getting close to the Dread, now. Though we haven't seen any magic yet, maybe he's hoping to sneak up on it and just steal the egg?' There was a hint of a chuckle in the deep voice and Theon pushed it away, out of his mind.  
He glanced around the edge of the rock he was standing behind and sucked in a quick, panicked breath as he saw the dragon's head swing in his direction, yellow eyes narrowing dangerously. It was almost like the fucking thing had understood what the Sports Minister had just shouted out to it.

He swallowed hard, raised his wand to his forehead for a moment, almost in prayer, and focussed on the spell he needed. He needed it now - before the dragon really understood he was there. Before it saw him as a threat and fought back.  
He lowered his wand to chest height, pointed unerringly in the direction of the massive body of water that he knew was not far beyond the walls of the arena and shouted, ' _Defensio Aqua_ ', focussing all his willpower on what he wanted - what he _needed_ to happen.

He braced himself for the shock of cold he knew was coming, but one second passed, then another, and nothing happened. He could feel his heart ratcheting up even higher from its current, frantic pounding, but he tried to force himself not to panic. He pointed his wand again, focussing his will, focussing his desperate need. ' _Defensio Aqua_ ', he shouted again, concentrating on feeling what was happening.

Nothing was happening.

He looked down at his wand, his panic escaping his control and starting to flood through him. It wasn't working. Something was wrong. A scream of rage pierced through his thoughts and jolted him into movement. He ran. He knew he shouldn't. Knew he was the mouse to a massive, homicidal cat, but he couldn't help himself. He ran away from the sound, dodging rocks until the roar of shouts and screams from the crowd swelled above the cries of reptilian fury.  
He skidded behind a massive slab of granite and flinched as a blast of heat seared its way past him, around him. He felt the air sucked from his lungs. In seconds though, it had cut out, and heatwaves shimmered in the air. He sagged against the rock for a moment, air sobbing back though his lungs. He was far enough away. He was just far enough away to have survived the blast.

He forced his panic back under his control. Forced himself to stay where he was. Not to run again. Not to expose himself. The dragon was chained. He'd seen it when the massive creature reared up. She couldn't get closer. Not yet. He forced himself to think. Something was wrong. What was wrong? The spell should have worked. He bit his lip and flinched in pain as his teeth caught the unhealed cut that Bolton had left - Bolton! Understanding speared through him and he looked at his wand again, eyes widening in horror.  
The other man's words whispered through his mind. _'It's almost a shame, what will happen next … I'll miss you, pet_ '. His wand. Bolton had fucked with his wand. He was defenceless. He had no way to get out and he was defenceless. 

His mind raced as he took in that reality. As he tried to think of something - anything - he could do. His eyes darted around the arena in front of him and then up into the stands. The crowd was a hundred metres above him, but he could make out a small group of figures, pushing their way down the steps, shoving people out of the way. He felt a jolt - a tiny tendril of hope. He shoved his wand into his jerkin and raised his empty hands, praying desperately that they would understand.

'What's this now?' Baratheon boomed out. 'Is he giving up? Can he do that? I don't think he can do that.' There was a whispered scuffle, then another voice came over the speaker. 'The Challenge must proceed, Mr Greyjoy,' came the soft, apologetic tones of Minister Varys. 'The magic demands it. It will not let us cease the trial until you have captured the egg.'  
Theon pushed the words away - he fucking knew that and it wasn't fucking helpful for his survival right now - focussing on the figures, now hanging over the side of the stadium wall, looking down at him. He could just make out the faces of Robb and Gendry and _Jon_. Jon was shouting something down at him, every line of his body tense, anguish on his face. Theon couldn't hear him but he raised his hands, making it clear what he needed. Jon turned to his brother, gesturing and demanding something, pulling his own wand out. 

Robb nodded without hesitation, then shoved his arm into his shirt, pulling his wand out, jerking his arm back and sending it spiralling through the air and into the arena. Jon pointed his own wand at it, lips moving with a spell and it fell like a stone, making its way unerringly to Theon. He reached up a hand, fingers grasping desperately and when they closed around the slim beech stick, he almost sobbed in relief. He drew it to his chest and then ducked instinctively back to the ground as the men above him shouted as one with the crowd. A second later, another blast of phenomenal heat seared past him, followed by another shrill scream.

He waited for the heat to abate slightly, then gripped the wand harder in his fist, looking down at it beseechingly. Robb's wand was beech, like his. And it had been given willingly. _Work for me_ , he prayed desperately. _Please, please, work for me_. He sucked in a deep breath, looking back in the direction of the Great Lake of Hogwarts and focussed every ounce of his concentration. ' _Defensio Aqua_ ', he screamed hoarsely. 

A second passed - a second that seemed like an eternity - and then Theon was drenched - was surrounded by water. It surged around him, contained him, protected him, replenishing continuously from its bottomless source. He felt a massive grin split his face as he realised he finally had a chance. The water swirled around him, separated from his body by a few centimetres of air, but rushing back to touch him, as though to reassure itself that he was still there. He stepped forward and the water moved with him. He could see through it, though the shapes were slightly blurry. Somehow that made it easier. It made the final step - the step outside of the protection of his slab of rock … the step into the path of the angry Black Dread - possible.

He clenched his fist around the borrowed wand, concentrating with every fibre of his being on sustaining the spell, and stepped forward to face the dragon. It hissed harshly at him, launching itself back onto its hind legs, wings beating at the air as it screamed again. Theon moved quickly forward, while it was still unsure, while it was still assessing the new threat he posed. He covered as much ground as he could, the water still swirling protectively around him. But then he felt - more than saw - the thump as the great beast dropped back to all four legs. He didn’t need the terrified screams of the crowd to know what was coming next and he froze, closing his eyes instinctively.

The water protection should work. Everything he had read said it should work. But he'd had no way of testing it. No way of knowing, short of exposing himself to dragon fire -

And then there was heat and light all around him. Water boiled and steamed and hissed as the spell pulled more and more from the lake to swirl around him, to protect him in a thick, ice-cold barrier. Still the fire came, billowing around him, beating against his liquid shield, trying to force its way in. Theon gasped in quick breaths, fingers gripping Robb's wand painfully tightly and looked at the spectacle, eyes wide.  
Then, abruptly, the flame cut off. The hissing of steam ceased as well as the water surged back into place in full depth around him. He let out a shaky breath and forced his legs not to collapse under him. He forced himself to move again.

He could faintly hear Baratheon's voice, distorted through the liquid prism he moved within, 'By the Gods that boy has balls. Did you _see_ that? He just stood there and took it. Dragon fire. Face on. I've never seen the like.' Theon grinned tightly, teeth bared, and moved more quickly, darting between rocks, making his way towards the egg. The dragon blew flame at him again. And again. Each time the spell held. His watery protection took all the abuse levelled at it and replenished as fast as the furnace of heat destroyed it. He looked up at it as he climbed now, trying to gauge just how close he was, how far its chain stretched. He readied the next spell in his mind. When he'd practiced with Jon, most of the time, he'd been able to hold both spells at once. Most of the time wasn't going to be enough now.

This had to work.

Then the dragon moved. It seemed to have decided that its eggs were no longer safe and that it had to take the fight to the interloper instead of allowing him closer to the nest. There was no more time to think. The huge scaled beast launched itself down the pile of rocks at him. Theon jerked his wand up so that it was pointing directly at the beast and shouted, ' _Impetus Aqua_ '. There was no delay. A massive jet of water sprung from his wand, half as thick as the great scaled head coming for him, teeth bared. It punched into the dragon's thick skull, knocked its aim off, pushed it to one side. It dug its claws into the rock, whipping its long neck back to face him and roaring loudly, the noise deafening, even though his bubble of water.

He threw the spell again. And again, each massive jet of water smashing into the beast's head, its side, its legs. Pushing it and buffeting it. He was panting from the effort, climbing madly, almost blindly as he watched it, putting every ounce of his effort, his fight, into keeping it busy, keeping it distracted. The cocoon of water wouldn't protect him from jagged teeth, wouldn't protect him from a crushing blow. He had to keep it off him. Keep it away.

His lungs were burning and his muscles cramping as he pulled himself up and over the final rock. The dragon seemed to realise suddenly that he was in sight of its eggs and it redoubled its efforts to reach him, thrashing madly, jetting flame at him, at the rock around it, at anything it could see as it snapped its jaws. He stood for a moment, chest heaving, knees shaking, facing it, sending jet after jet of water at it, backing slowly towards the clutch of eggs as he did so. He couldn't keep this up much longer. He had to end it. He had to get the prize.  
He chanced a glance down to see the egg - the golden egg - within touching distance. Only his protective bubble wouldn't allow him to reach for it. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, then he screwed up his courage and whispered the spell to let the protection fall. 

The world became crystal clear around him as the water vanished. Suddenly the sound of screams and shouts, raging dragons, hissing steam and his own panting breaths filled his ears. He turned all of his attention back to the dragon, screaming ' _Impetus Aqua_ ' again and again as his wand slashed in front of him, forcing the dragon back and away. He leaned quickly down, scooping the golden egg into his left hand, straightening immediately.

The moment he touched the smooth, cold shell, all hell broke loose. The arena was immediately filled with sharp cracks as wizards apparated into place all around him. Theon looked around with wide, exhausted eyes. They immediately formed a protective detail around him and raised their own wands, sending stunning spell after stunning spell darting down into the massive black dragon. It cried out again, the sound almost desolate this time, as it slipped down the side of the rocks and fell to the floor of the arena, shaking the ground with a massive boom as it dropped, insensible.

Theon sagged, dropping to his knees, the backlash of the adrenaline flooding through his system. He pulled the wand and the egg tight to his chest and drew in huge, shuddering breaths of air as he closed his eyes, bending his head forward.

 

A second later he felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.  
'Can you stand? I need to get you out of here,' someone said in a voice that sounded thick with stress.  
Theon just nodded, pushing himself wearily to his feet and then a second later he felt the familiar jerk through the air as he was pulled into side-along apparition.  
He staggered away from the supporting arm and had barely looked up to see where he was before a hard body collided with his, strong arms wrapped around him and he was pulled into a warm, solid chest. Theon startled, pulling back slightly to see that it was _Jon_ who had run up to him. Jon whose arms were tight around him and body hard against his. With that realisation, he melted. He let everything go. He wrapped his arms around Jon in turn and buried his face in the other man's neck, breathing in the scent and the heat of him. He shuddered slightly, a sob wanting to break free, the stress and the shock starting to push their way into him mind - demanding to be dealt with.  
'You're okay,' Jon's voice rumbled, low in his ear, on hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, stroking soothingly. 'You're alive. Gods Theon -' there was a pause and a catch in Jon's voice. 'I was so scared you were going to be killed. I have no fucking idea how you survived that.'  
With those words, Jon pulled back slightly and Theon reluctantly straightened up a little, though neither loosened their grip.  
Jon looked into Theon's eyes, his own grey eyes full of heat and fear and something that Theon didn't understand.  
'You're incredible,' Jon whispered. 'I -'

At that moment Asha reached them, throwing her arms around the both of them, crushing Theon to her. Then she pulled back, spinning Theon around to face her, 'Gods, Böe! You scared the fuck out of me. Just - you -,' she broke off, seemingly speechless, and crushed Theon to her again.  
Then Robb reached them, smacking Theon on the back and exclaiming with amazement. Then Gendry and Ygritte and Tormund and Arya. And then there were teachers and judges and Madame Maegyr was pushing her way to the front, demanding to see Theon _right now_. Theon looked around, eyes wide, panic starting to grip him again at the sudden loss of Jon's hold - at what had seemed to be the only thing keeping him together. Then he felt a light touch at his back and relaxed slightly as he glanced across to see Jon standing there, a silent presence, a rock at his back. When their eyes met, Jon gave him a small smile and somehow, through the exhaustion and the pain and the residual fear, Theon managed to smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!
> 
> Did the dragons live up to your hopes?
> 
> Sooooooo much fun to write <3
> 
> Also ... slow burn is getting slightly less slow ;)


	21. Chapter 21

Theon was taken from the field of the Challenge directly back to the Hospital Wing, despite his protestations that he was fine.  
'You just stood down dragon fire more than once and performed magic of a very strenuous nature, Mr Greyjoy. _I_ will determine whether you are _fine_ ,' Madame Maegyr huffed.

Jon came with him, something he was quietly relieved by. He - right now he just wanted Jon near him. Robb came too of course, one arm around Theon's shoulders solicitously as he asked the Healer whether she thought Theon would make a full recovery … and also whether she was planning to attend the celebrations that evening.  
'I have work to do. Theon wasn't the only one injured,' she replied coolly, though Theon thought he could hear a smile in her voice.  
He frowned at her comment - Jon seemed fine, striding along beside them, and he remembered Baratheon's commentary on Daenerys' challenge - she seemed to have strolled through it without incident … so what -  
And then it came back to him - at the end of Bolton's challenge, his dragon had turned on him.

'Is Bolton hurt?' he asked, voice rasping from his aching throat.  
The Healer looked across at him as he spoke, and nodded. 'He shielded himself from most of the blast, but an ordinary shield charm isn't strong enough to deflect dragon fire completely. It takes some fancy spell work like you used to absorb heat of that magnitude.'  
'Is it bad?' Theon asked, trying and mostly failing, to keep the grim pleasure from his voice.  
Madame Maegyr hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between her compassion as a healer and her history with Theon. Then she nodded gravely. 'All of the exposed skin on his face, neck and hands has blistered and burned, and some of the leathers took damage as well. He has burns on his right arm and leg. We're working to regenerate his skin back to normal as quickly as possible … But he's in a lot of pain right now. We'll have him isolated for at least a week while he heals.'

Theon couldn't help the grunt of satisfaction that left his mouth. Behind him, he heard Jon rumble in pleasure at the words. The Healer eyed them both but didn't say anything more.

They made their way slowly up the stairs into the entrance hall and then across to the Hospital Wing, where the Healer passed Theon a soft pair of grey track pants and a faded red t-shirt.  
'You need to get warm and dry first,' she directed, casting a significant look at the shivers that were wracking his body at regular intervals. 'Then I'll be able to see what's shock and what's just you drenching yourself in the Lake.' She turned away from them, striding quickly as she said, 'Eat some chocolate. I'm just going to check on Mr Bolton. I'll be back shortly.'  
Robb looked up at her departing back and slipped Theon's arm from around his neck, pushing him gently at the bed before hurrying after her, asking whether there was any assistance he could provide.

Theon snorted softly and sagged back against the bed, almost too weary to move. He heard a quiet movement of boots on stone and then Jon was standing in front of him, a few squares of chocolate held out before him on outstretched palm.  
'You should eat this,' he said softly. 'It will help.'  
Theon looked up to meet his eyes and saw fear and pain etched on the other man's face. Jon looked exhausted, his own competition leathers scuffed with dirt and small pocked burn-marks.  
'Maybe you should have some too,' he joked feebly, 'You look like shit.'  
Jon barked out a surprised laugh, 'You clearly haven't seen yourself.'  
Theon grimaced and reached out for the chocolate, his fingers brushing against Jon's bare palm as he took it. The feeling sent a small tingle of warmth through him.

The chocolate was smooth and creamy and he felt renewed energy flowing through him almost immediately. He pushed himself into a standing position with a sigh and reached up for the ties at the top of his competition jacket. He fumbled with the leather - pulled tight initially by his nervous fingers and now swollen by the wetting he'd inflicted on it. Theon growled under his breath, face heating as he fumbled, the task made harder by the missing fingers on his left hand.

He was aware of Jon's eyes on him as he struggled with his clothes and his embarrassment deepened. He could defeat a damned dragon but he couldn't even undress himself. A moment later his thoughts were derailed as Jon stepped closer, pushing Theon's hands aside gently.  
'Let me help,' he said, voice low.  
Theon drew in a sharp breath, eyes flicking to Jon's face, but the other man was focussed resolutely on his task, fingers working at the water-logged knot. In a few short seconds he'd tugged it loose, pulling the neck of Theon's jacket open. As he did so, his fingertips brushed against Theon's neck and Theon shivered under the touch. He hoped Jon would write it off as the cold of the wet clothes. He hoped Jon would touch him again.

Instead of stepping away, once the tie was undone, Jon's hands moved lower, to the next knot. Theon watched him, heat spiking through him at the closeness of Jon's body, the sure movement of his hands as he undid that knot, and then another. Jon still hadn't looked up, and there was a faint flush on his cheeks as he worked, his fingers brushing occasionally against the thin cotton shirt Theon wore under the jacket. Every time he grazed against Theon's body, he could feel heat rippling through him, beginning to grow and spread through him. His shivering calmed and he bit his lip, forcing himself to breath evenly … to stop himself from reaching up to cup Jon's face, tilt it the other man's mouth up to his …

The last tie slipped free and Jon looked up at him at last, his eyes dark and his breathing coming a little quicker than normal. Theon was captivated by his eyes, by the depths he saw in them. Jon moved slowly, holding his gaze, as though unsure of Theon's response.  
He brought his hands up to Theon's shoulders, pushing the jacket slowly off him, and down his arms, stepping even closer to do so.  
Theon could feel Jon's heat all along his body now. They were just millimetres from touching and everything in him screamed to close the distance, to press himself against the hard planes of the other man's body. But he didn't. He couldn't. 

Jon's hands followed the jacket down his arms, and Theon felt their path like a burning brand. He let the jacket fall loosely to the floor at his feet and his breathing hitched when Jon's hands slid down his wrists to twine their fingers together. His heart ratcheted into gear and his eyes widened. Jon didn't falter at the feeling of his mutilated hand, just rubbed one thumb softly against his palm, a movement that seemed almost unconscious.

Jon's eyes were even darker now and when he spoke, his low voice was husky in a way that sent molten heat spiking through Theon. 'Watching you - having to stand there and watch you face that alone - was one of the hardest things I've ever done. You - I've never had many close friends Theon … but you - I thought it had you. I really did.' His face creased with pain and he squeezed his eyes shut, leaning forward slightly so his forehead rested against Theon's. Theon's breath caught in his throat completely at the closeness. At the feeling of total vulnerability - the words echoed through his mind _'I've never had many close friends'_. He had to pull himself under control. Friends. They were friends.

He forced himself to say something - to do anything except crush their mouths together.  
'I'm Ironborn,' he said, the raspy huskiness of his voice from far more than his ordeal now. 'It takes a lot more than that to get rid of us.'  
Jon huffed out a soft laugh and opened his eyes, not moving his face away from Theon's. Theon swallowed dryly against the _ache_ that consumed every part of his body. The ache to have this man. To have him in every way. In so much more than just a physical sense.  
_Danger_ , his mind screamed, trying to push him away from the path of destruction - trying to remind him of all the reasons why Jon could never be his. Images of Margaery, Loras, Renly and countless other simpering, drooling, manipulative others scrolled in front of his face. He'd read about Jon Snow's career in the _Prophet_ for the last few years. He knew the sort of people that were always panting after him. He couldn't be like them. He wouldn't. He was Jon's friend. That was something none of _them_ would ever be. And if that was all he was - well he would have that rather than ruin it by pushing for something more.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and twisted his hands, freeing them gently from Jon's hold - feeling the loss of the touch like a physical pain. A trace of confusion entered Jon's face and he straightened up slightly, as though about to move away.  
Theon couldn't help himself, his good hand came up to cup the side of Jon's face.  
'You saved me,' he said, looking earnestly into Jon's eyes. 'If you hadn’t got me that wand -' He shivered and it was a mixture of the memory and the feeling of Jon's face under his hand. He wanted to stroke his thumb along Jon's full lips. His gaze dropped to the other man's mouth. It was made for kissing.

As though burned, he pulled his hand away and stepped back, removing himself from the temptation. He looked down, clearing his throat, reaching for the towel on the end of the bed and beginning to rub it through his hair - desperate for some sort of distraction. Something to stop him from just pulling Jon down to the bed on top of him.

Jon stepped forward, one hand outstretched, 'Theon -' he began.  
At that moment Robb and Madame Maegyr came back into the main room, Robb leaning in to say something that made the healer laugh. Jon's head jerked around to the sound and a look flashed across his face that Theon couldn't read.  
The other two reached them quickly and the Healer tutted at him to see that he'd only managed to remove his jacket. Theon flushed, looking sideways at Jon, who was looking away, face reddened.

Madame Maegyr turned to Robb and Jon, 'Visiting hours are over boys. Theon clearly isn’t going to do what I need him to do while you're still here. You can have him back in a few hours.'  
'You're coming to the feast?' Jon asked him, voice still husky and eyes intense as he looked across.  
Theon nodded, heartbeat stuttering again.  
'I'll see you there then,' Jon said. Then he turned and walked from the room.

\-----

When he was dry and warm and pronounced in good health by the Healer, Theon headed back up to his room to get ready for the feast. There were students wandering the corridors and the first time he felt a hand on his arm, Theon tensed, spinning around reflexively, hands up. But it was just a bunch of Hufflepuff fourth years he didn't recognise.

'You were amazing in the Challenge,' one giggled.  
'So brave,' said another, biting her lip.  
Theon stared at them, shock robbing him of his words. 'Uh, thanks,' he muttered, turning away. By the time he got to the portrait of the fat lady, he had been stopped a dozen times by people who wanted to congratulate him or hear how he had felt, how he had done it. The first time he had an offer of a private celebration - by a buxom redhead Gryffindor seventh year called Ros - he just gaped at her. He had been invisible - pathetic - for so long now. Someone like Ros had not looked twice at him as they passed in the corridors or sat in the common room together.

Suddenly - sharply - he knew exactly how Jon felt when people chased him for his fame without caring in the least about who the man inside was. Where once the proposition would have made him thrill with desire … Now it just made him feel dirty. He gave her a quick smile and a 'no thanks' and hurried up to his room. 

In the quiet space he gathered up his things for a shower, choosing his favourite pair of tight grey jeans and a comfortable, well fitting black v-neck. After his shower he spent extra time in front of the mirror, carding his fingers through his hair until it had just the right look of styled but natural that he liked. He smiled at himself in the mirror and then grimaced. He hated his smile. He snorted to himself as he slipped his school robes over the lot. Who was he trying to impress anyway. _Just friends_ didn't need to look good for each other.

The Champions were required to gather at the trophy room behind the Great Hall. When Theon arrived, Jon was already there and he looked _hot_. His black curls shone in the torchlight and Theon just _ached_ to run his fingers through them. Jon's bare arms were on display, tattoos dark and proud against his defined muscles. His black combat leathers edged in silver shone as though they'd just been cleaned.

Jon heard his footsteps and turned, face breaking into a wide smile.  
'You look much better,' he said, voice low as Theon got closer.  
'I feel better,' Theon replied, realising that he did. The challenge was done. Ramsey was incapacitated and he was about to spend the evening with Jon. As if the other man had read his mind, Jon asked, 'Are you coming to party with us tonight?'  
Theon nodded, remembering the last time he'd been on the Durmstrang ship and the feeling of power he'd had that night. Then he grimaced. 'No fire whisky tonight.'  
Jon laughed. 'We'll see.'

Then Daenerys approached and she seemed to have overheard part of the conversation.  
'Where is this party anyway?' She asked, one eyebrow raised.  
Jon hesitated, 'Well we were going to have it on the ship, but there's a fair few people coming now. You're welcome too of course. It's just I don't know how much space we'll have …'  
Jon turned to Theon, a look of consternation on his face. 'There's nowhere in the castle we could go without Professors hanging around is there?'  
Theon thought for a moment, then a wide smile spread slowly across his face. 'You know, I know just the place …'

Before he could elaborate, the door near them opened and Sam Tarly stuck his head in. 'Oh good, you're all here. They're ready for you.'  
Theon felt a sneaking feeling of nervousness spread through him again, but he swallowed it down and followed the others. When they entered the Great Halll it was packed, every seat on the long tables occupied. At the sight of them, all four tables broke into noisy applause. Theon smiled slightly, letting the sound wash over him. He spotted Asha sitting down at the Gryffindor table, a grin of pride on her face. He met her eyes and his own smile grew.

The sound ceased when the Hogwarts Headmaster stood, moving towards his golden lectern. 'Welcome to the first Challenge Feast. Welcome especially to three of our four Champions. Mr Bolton cannot be with us tonight due to his injuries, but we will feast in honour of him as well.'  
Theon fought to control his sneer as he thought of doing anything 'in honour' of Bolton.

The Headmaster continued. 'Before we begin, we should award the points for the challenge today. Each of the five judges gave a score out of ten based on the skill shown, the daring used and the time the challenge was completed in. Minister?' he said, indicating with a wave that Varys should step forward.  
The Minister for International Magical Cooperation cleared his throat with a soft sound, but when he spoke, his voice could be heard throughout the Hall. 

'We deliberated long on the awarding of points due to the range of approaches shown by our Champions. In fourth place, with a total of thirty five points, is Ramsey Bolton.' There was scattered applause around the room, less enthusiastic for the fact that he wasn't present to witness it. Varys continued, 'Mr Bolton showed a good command of magical skill with his shadowing and shield charms, but lost points for each egg that was damaged in the retrieval of his own.' Varys frowned slightly at the recollection. Then he turned to the three Champions present, smiling at them all.

'In third place, with a total of thirty nine points is Daenerys Targaryen.' The applause was much louder now, spread across the Hall, with most of the noise coming from the knot of sixth and seventh year students on the Hufflepuff table. Theon saw the silver-haired woman's eyes tighten as she re-accepted the golden egg from the Minister, but her smile was gracious.  
'Ms Targaryen completed the challenge in record time, showed incredible daring … But lost some points for not using wand work to aid her.' His voice sounded regretful at the last words and Theon would have bet she received a perfect ten from Varys. Then the Minister's eyes were on him and Jon and with a thrill, Theon realised he was in the running to be first. His eyes widened in shock.

'Our second place Champion showed enviable skill and remarkable daring, facing down the fire of the fiercest of our dragons more than once. Points were deducted for the time the challenge took, and for the acquisition of an additional wand - a matter that will be fully investigated. However, my congratulations Mr Greyjoy, forty two points.'  
The Hall erupted into cheers at the Hogwarts' Champions success and Theon felt a huge grin spread over his face at the sound. Varys dropped his egg back into his hands and Theon turned to see Jon smiling at him, face full of happiness at his success.

Varys held up a hand and as the cheers died down, he said, 'That, of course, leaves Mr Snow as our winner of the first Challenge. His use of spell work and then flying ability were truly a joy to watch. Fourth eight points Mr Snow. Congratulations.'

This time the cheers were deafening. Theon looked around the Hall to see all eyes on Jon and his heart lurched at the naked want he could see decorating faces seated on every table. He wanted to step in front of the other man and protect him from the lot of them. Before he could act on the insane impulse, Lord Tywin stepped forward again.  
'Let the feast begin,' he commanded, gesturing that the Champions should move down to the tables.

The three of them were stopped more than once on the way to their seats, and Theon breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his normal spot on the Gryffindor table. Robb and Gendry moved over to make room for him and Jon. The fit was tight with everyone present and Jon's thigh was pressed along the length of his. When the other man reached forward to place his golden egg on the table beside Theon's, his bare skin brushed against him. Theon shivered at the touch, but didn't pull away when Jon sat back down just as close as before.

His sister was sitting across for him, looking right at home between Ygritte and Arya. Theon shuddered slightly at the sight of them altogether. It was like some sort of unholy trinity. Ash looked across at him with a wink but didn't interrupt the story she was telling about the time she'd pirated a rival fishing company and basically gutted their fleet. 

He shook his head and concentrated on heaping his plate with roast vegetables, lamb chops, a cut of pock with the crackling on. He'd barely eaten the night before and had skipped breakfast, so food tasted amazing and he focussed on it, letting the conversation flow around him.  
'You two were amazing,' Gendry was saying, awe in his voice.  
'Don't give Jon a big head,' Ygritte said in a teasing tone, drawing her attention away from Asha. 'He flew a broom. It's basically his job. Theon though. That was impressive.' Theon flashed her a small, surprised smile.  
'Squid boy strikes again,' Arya piped up. Asha laughed loudly at the name.  
Jon put a hand on Theon's thigh, squeezing lightly as he smiled at him again. Theon dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter at the touch, flushing slightly as arousal spiked through him. Arya looked between them, eyes calculating, then she opened her mouth again but closed it suddenly with a wince of pain and a glare at Jon.  
'You should have got first place,' Jon murmured, leaning in, hand still hot on Theon's leg. 'You _were_ much more impressive than me.'  
Theon breathed in sharply at the other man's nearness - his casual touch.  
'Thanks,' he murmured back and Jon squeezed his leg again lightly before picking up his fork and returning to his meal.

Theon swallowed heavily and tried to focus on anything except the incredibly vivid image that had come into his mind of him fisting a hand into Jon's dark curls and pulling their mouths together into a hot, dirty kiss. He imagined sweeping the dishes of food off the solid table with a crash and pushing the other man on top of it, biting into his mouth as Jon's hands pulled at his clothes, cupped his arse as Theon ground down into him -

A loud laugh broke into his thoughts and he whipped his head up to the teacher's table, where it was coming from, taking a deep, steadying breath and trying to calm his thoughts. The raucous laughter was coming from the Minister of Magical Games and Sports, as he banged at the table, face red and beard bushy.  
His voice boomed out over the chatter of the students, 'And then I said - I said to Stanny - you're dry as the Eyrie, man. You need to wet the old wood, once in a while. Know what I mean.' He gave a leering wink at the Beauxbaton Headmistress and elbowed the History of Magic teacher - Stannis Baratheon - who was sitting to the right of his brother - face tight with disapproval. One his other side, Theon was surprised to see Jon's dad, who seemed to be struggling to keep a smile off his face at the story the Minister had obviously been telling him. Theon looked more closely at the teacher's table and saw that Jon's uncle was deep in conversation with the Durmstrang Headmaster. Daenerys' parents were seated beside Professor Mormont who was speaking enthusiastically to them, though they both seemed to have a look of strained politeness on their faces.

Even some of the dragon keepers that Theon recognised from earlier were present. His attention was drawn back to the table as Gendry twisted around suddenly, jostling against Theon as he turned to straddle his bench.  
'Pod!' He called. 'Hey, Pod.'  
Theon turned as well to see the Hufflepuff boy glance over with a surprised look on his face. He saw it was Gendry and his face reddened, but he responded to the _come here_ motion Gendry made to him.  
As soon as he approached, Gendry looked up at him with an almost predatory smile on his face. 'You coming to the party tonight?' He asked.  
Podrick reddened further, shrugging shyly, holding a book to his chest.  
'You should,' Gendry said, voice getting huskier. Gendry kept Pod's gaze deliberately as he bit down on his lower lip, eyes heating.  
The Hufflepuff student nodded dazedly, gripping his book tighter and whispering a dry 'maybe' as he turned to go.  
'Pod?' Gendry said, rising to catch one of his hands and pull him in closer. He leaned in close to Podrick's ear, but Theon still heard the growling words.  
'I really want you to come tonight. I'll make it so worth your while.'

Theon heard Pod's sharp intake of breath and then Gendry released the other man's hand and Pod turned, stumbling over his own feet and almost falling into the table as he went to move away. Robb caught him, laughing and said, 'See you tonight then,' as he shot an amused look at the clearly triumphant Gendry.

'Looks like everyone's got plans for tonight,' he said with a wry smile around the table. Asha had one arm around Ygritte's shoulders and was rubbing patterns over her languidly swirling tattoos as she whispered in the other woman's ear. Then Robb's gaze moved to Tormund and he snorted out a laugh, 'Just go and _ask_ her.'  
Theon looked over, confused. Tormund wasn't paying any attention. He was staring dreamily up at the main table, and Theon tried to see what had caught his attention. At that moment, the head dragon keeper looked directly over at them, her face creasing before she looked away again.

Theon looked between them in confusion. 'Love at first sight,' Robb said with a smile, leaning around Jon to follow Theon's gaze. 'For him, anyway.'  
Theon laughed, hoping Tormund would get lucky. She looked like the sort of woman who would draw his attention - tall and strong and in command.  
'Her name's Brienne,' Robb said. 'She's head handler in the dragon breeding programs. Talisa said they went to school together.'  
Theon looked at him with sympathy at the mention of the Healer's name, 'Did she say yes to the party tonight.' Robb's face dropped. 'No. She said she was a little old for crashing student parties. It's stupid,' he muttered. 'She's only four years older than I am.'

'Maybe someone will hurt themselves and you can take them to the Hospital Wing,' Theon suggested to cheer him up. It worked. Robb's face brightened considerably at the words.  
'Speaking of the party,' he said. 'We should get organised. You say we should bring a few people at a time up to the room?'  
Theon nodded, thinking that would be best.  
Robb grinned at him,'Cool. You go on ahead to get things set up and we'll start spreading the word about where people should go and when they should turn up. You said you had booze sorted?'  
Theon nodded, a grin spreading over his face. 'I promise you, the moment we walk in that door you'll have everything you could possibly require for a party.'

Robb's smile widened and he stood up, Jon pushing to his feet as well. 'I'll go with you to help,' the dark haired man said, reaching a hand down to Theon. He didn't need help to get up from the trestle seat. He shouldn't encourage the casual touching …

He reached out to put his hand in Jon's, the other man's hand rough and calloused.  
'Sounds good,' he said, as Jon pulled him to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read some of my other fics, you'll know I'm a sucker for Jon undressing people - projection? Who knows :p
> 
> Thanks go to @Theon's for being amazing as always but also giving me a few prompts for this ch.
> 
> The after party is coming next. I promise less plot and more porn soon *soooorrrryyyy*


	22. Chapter 22

They made their way up to the seventh floor in companionable silence. Theon was lost in thought about just what he needed to ask the Room of Requirement to do for him. He had no doubt it would be able to deliver - after all it had found him the perfect hiding spot more than once in the past - but he wanted to make sure that the party tonight met everyone's expectations.

When they got to the blank patch of wall opposite the tapestry of Aerys the Mad he told Jon to stand beside the portrait of the burning man and focussed his will. _I need somewhere we can have a party with everything we need and no teachers finding out_. He thought the thought as hard as he could as he walked back and forth in front of the stones. On his third pass, a door appeared, and he felt a spike of relief. He smiled at Jon's surprised face and opened the door. As they both stepped inside, his smile widened.  
The room had outdone itself.

It was dimly lit and there were dark alcoves scattered with cushions around the edge of the room. Off to one side he could see a fully stocked bar. There looked to be barrels of fire whiskey, tankards of butter beer, bottles of spiced mead and casks of Dragon Barrel Brandy. He smiled in satisfaction. Music was playing through invisible speakers, just loud enough that he had to lean into Jon to be heard, 'What do you think?'

Jon looked around the room, noting the dance floor, the groups of high, rounded tables with barstools scattered around them, the rooms off to the side which had closed doors and the table piled with chips, cheeses and dips.

'It looks like a good time,' he said with a grin, moving over to the bar to pour himself a glass of fire whiskey. He offered one to Theon, but he shuddered at the idea, opting instead for a spiced mead that went straight to his head anyway.

He looked around the room in satisfaction, then noticed one of the doors had the word 'Cloakroom' written on it. He smiled and pulled his robes off at he walked over to it. He hung them on a peg inside and headed back out to the main room, dressed in his black jeans and grey v-neck from earlier. He pushed the sleeves up as he walked back towards Jon and he noticed the other man eyeing him with a speculative look that he didn't quite understand.  
'I didn't think of casual clothes,' Jon admitted as Theon reached him. 'You look good.'  
Theon flushed at the comment, sure that Jon didn't mean it as anything more than a friendly compliment. Then he indicated at the cloakroom. 'Think of what you want to wear and you'll find it in the room.'

Jon looked at him, surprise on his face, but concentrated for a moment and then headed to the cloakroom, leaving the door ajar. Theon watched idly as he stripped the leather ties out of his sleeveless jerkin and then pulled it off his shoulders, facing away from Theon, revealing his sculpted back, swirling with heavy, dark tattoos. Theon swallowed heavily at the sight, desire tingling through him. He wanted Jon so badly. He forced himself to look away. To focus on something else, as Jon picked up a shirt to slide over his head.

He was just about to go over and check out the other closed doors when there was a chime at the entrance. He walked over to see a porthole on the wall showing him some people standing outside, looking around in confusion. He took a deep breath and then smiled and opened the door, startling Daenerys and three of her family. She was wearing an ornate looking dress with twists of cloth that hugged her body and left her shoulders bare. Her hair was done up in elaborate braids. Theon couldn't be sure but he thought he recognised her twin brother - Viserys. He always had such a sour twist to his face. He thought the second one was Aegon, a cousin who was also a sixth year and shared classes with them. And the last might have been Rhaegar, who he thought was her older brother. Regardless, they all had the same ethereal beauty, silver hair and violet eyes.

They all turned at the same time to look him up and down, and then moved into the room as one. Daenerys moved to one of the alcoves, nodding to Jon on her way past. Theon's heart skipped a little at the sight of Jon in his normal black fighting pants and a tight black v-neck t-shirt that clung to his body, defining his chest and stretching across his biceps. He forced himself to look back at the other guests. Rhaegar made a detour to the bar and picked up drinks for everyone. Theon had barely watched them to their seats when the door chimed again. Robb and Gendry entered next, Robb in a short sleeve button-down shirt, Gendry in a dark grey muscle top that showed off his powerful form. They exclaimed with pleasure and clapped Theon on the shoulder.

Following in their wake, Arya tagged in with Shireen at her heels, glancing around with wide eyes. Arya made straight for the bar but Robb intercepted her, taking the glasses of brandy out of her hands and replacing them with two tankards of butterbeer. She made a face at him but passed one to Shireen anyway.

Theon was busy for the next half an hour, letting people in, in parties of two or three. To his surprise, Sam entered with Pod, both looking around with a gulp of mild fear. He made sure to say a quick hello to them and directed Pod in Gendry's direction with a wink at the Durmstrang student, who was leaning against one of the rounded tables with a drink in his hand.  
Gilly entered not long after and Theon wondered who had invited her, but then she made her way shyly over to Sam at the food table, and they both smiled at each other before looking down at their feet, neither speaking.

Theon rolled his eyes and then opened the door again to his sister and Ygritte, both grinning in obvious satisfaction. He had a think about how much time had passed since dinner and grimaced. Asha reached out to pinch his cheek, murmuring, 'Don't be a prude Böe,' as they made a beeline for the bar.

Drogo and his chasers, Qotho and Haggo were next to enter, along with a few other Hufflepuffs Theon didn’t recognise. They looked around the room briefly and then Aegon moved quickly towards them, dodging through people, before stopping right in front of the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, eyes shining.  
'Will you join us?' Theon heard him say, with a gesture back to the darkened alcove where he knew Daenerys was holding court. He snorted at the obvious enthusiasm on the Beauxbaton student's face. But as he glanced across, Theon saw Drogo's face light up with a gleam of desire. His lips curved into a hard smile. He moved across the room with purposeful strides. The others moved to the bar and the dance floor.

Then Loras and Renly arrived. Behind them was a party of sixth and seventh year Ravenclaws, including Margaery, Trystane Martell and Tyene and Elia Sand, the women all dressed in tight, shiny dresses, the men in immaculate slacks and shirts. Theon stiffened at seeing them all through the porthole. He wondered if he could get away with ignoring their presence, and not inviting them in. As he thought that, the door chimed again, and the people outside it moved restlessly. Theon gritted his teeth and opened the door, plastering an insincere smile on his face and gesturing inside.

He decided he'd had enough time on the door and headed straight to the bar, pouring himself a shot of fire whiskey and downing it immediately. He felt the burn soak through him, washing away some of the bitter, jealous taste in his mouth.  
He startled to feel a warm hand at his back and looked across to see Jon at his side.  
'I thought you'd decided fire whiskey wouldn't be a wise choice?' Jon asked, his tone light.  
'I changed my mind. I don't want to be wise tonight,' Theon said, pouring himself another shot. He could already see Loras and Renly on their way over to Jon and the sight of them sent a seething sickness roiling through him. He wanted to punch the both of them in the face … but Jon wasn't his. He had no claim on him. He downed his second shot with a grimace and moved away from the bar - away from Jon - to join the group clustered around the rounded tables near the dance floor.

The conversation that he walked into stopped him dead - not so much what it was about, but who was speaking.  
'The Demons aren't tipped to win, sure, but you can't discount them. Have you seen Oberyn Martell _fly_. They don't call him the Red Viper of Dorne for nothing! He's deadly. He can counter most of what every other top ranked team can throw at him - and has thrown at him in the last two seasons,' Gilly was waving her hands to illustrate her points as she glared at Podrick, who looked startled at her sudden attack. Sam was standing beside her, staring at her with a dreamy, smitten look on his face.

Gendry laughed easily, dispelling some of the tension, putting a hand on Pod's shoulder and squeezing lightly. This seemed to wind Pod tighter, rather than reassure him, however.  
'I don't think Pod was saying that the Dornish Demon's aren't a good team, just that the Lannisport Lions tend to dominate the league. I mean it's natural they have the advantage with so much money behind them.' He smiled disarmingly.

'Theon's always been a fan of the Winterfell Warriors, haven't you, Böe?' She smirked as she drew everyone's attention to him, and Theon glared, knowing she was referring to the news clippings he'd used to collect of a certain dark-haired seeker.

'Why do you call him that?' Gendry asked, curiosity in his tone. Asha laughed loudly and Theon flushed, glaring harder at her. She shot him an unrepentant look and started explaining, leaning against Ygritte and rubbing one hand along the other woman's hip as she spoke.  
'It's an old Ironborn word. Böe means "gust" or "little storm". Theon was such a noisy baby. He was always squawking about something. But it was so short lived. As soon as I poked my head over the edge of his cot he'd stop crying and this huge smile would come over his face.' There were various coos of delight and mockery from around the circle.

'And then when he was older the name just stuck. He's like a whirlwind, little Böe. He gets all worked up, he vents it out and then its over, like it had never happened - a little storm.'  
Theon's face was red with embarrassment at Asha's words and her teasing tone.  
'Halt die Fresse,' he growled back at her. She stuck her tongue out at him but subsided, pushing herself away from the table and looking across at Ygritte.  
'Another,' she asked, tilting her cup, eyebrow raised.  
Ygritte grinned back, a feral grin. 'Of course.'

Theon turned away from them, but looking away meant that his eyes moved across the room, and he couldn't help where they landed. Jon was still at the bar, leaning against it with his arms laying across its solid surface. Facing him, standing close against his body on either side were Loras and Renly. As Theon watched, jealously sparking in his chest, Loras leaned in, curling one hand around Jon's neck as he put his mouth to the dark haired man's ear. Whatever he said had Jon smiling, a deep easy smile and he nodded. Theon wondered what Jon had just agreed to. He had a feeling he wouldn't like whatever it was. Then Jon turned to look at Renly, arching an eyebrow, and Renly answered him by pulling him into a kiss, deep and messy. It broke only when Jon turned to Loras to drew him forward with a fist in his golden curls for the same treatment. Both men's hands moved to Jon's body and Theon ripped his eyes away from them, mood turning bitter. The few drinks he'd already had were swirling through him, fanning the flames of his sense of betrayal. It was stupid. He was stupid. He just needed to get the fuck over this _thing_ and stop making himself feel like shit pining over someone who was so far out of his league.

Robb stepped in beside him, nudging him towards the dance floor, 'C'mon. Forget about it. Let's dance.'  
Theon considered ignoring him. Considered leaving. But he didn't think being alone right now would be a good idea for his sanity and he needed to let off some energy. The beat was loud and deep and there was a dozen people moving to the music. He closed his eyes, threw his head back and let himself feel it. He swayed and stepped and threw his hands in the air, pushing out his anger and despair and just letting the music take its place. He opened his eyes and Robb was there, giving him an understanding grin and handing him another shot. He downed it in a second, throwing the glass in the direction of the tables. Then they danced together, jumping and singing and letting loose. Arya joined them, showing off every now an again with a backflip or a move he didn’t have any idea how she managed.

Others moved onto the floor and his eye was drawn by Drogo's bulky figure. The big Hufflepuff was standing under the strobing disco lights. Bracketed in his arms was Daenerys, arms above her head as she swayed to the music, eyes closed. His hands were on her hips and as he watched the big man leaned down to nuzzle into her hair. On either side of them were Aegon and Rhaegar, dancing so close that they were almost touching Drogo, but not quite. The hairsbreadth of distance seemed to be an unspoken line that the two of them yearned to cross but didn't dare. Theon glanced around, dimly curious, to see that Viserys was sitting in the darkened alcove by himself, arms crossed, a patronising look on his sullen face.

Robb leaned in to shout in his ear. 'I heard something interesting about that one,' he said, with a nod at Drogo. Theon looked at him, eyebrows raised, wondering what he hadn't heard in his few years at school with the big man. He could see Jon out of the corner of his eye, coming on to the dance floor with Loras and Renly trailing behind him and he was in desperate need of a distraction.  
'I heard he's part centaur. Apparently his dad was one. Get that!'  
Theon's mouth fell open as he eyed the powerfully built Quidditch captain. There _was_ something a bit wild about him. Maybe that explained it. And then his mind started to wander into the mechanics of just how that would work and he pulled it away with a wrench.

Unfortunately his gaze fell on Jon again and he gritted his teeth at the sight that met his eyes. Jon was dancing in the middle of the floor with Loras bracketed against his back, hands roaming up and down his body, one slipping beneath his tight t-shirt, pulling it up to reveal sculpted abs. Renly was in front of him, grinding back against Jon, rubbing his arse against Jon's cock. Theon balled his hands into fists. _Fuck this shit. I need to be so much drunker to deal with this_ , he thought as he pushed his way off the dance floor and back to the bar.

He reached for a set of shot glasses, lining four up and pouring fire whiskey into them. He was going to regret this in the morning - he knew. But now … now it was exactly what he needed. He downed the first two quickly, gasping at the burn that travelled down his throat. He reached for the third but another hand picked up the fourth, clinking the glass against his, before red-painted nails tilted it up to a vivid red lipsticked mouth. As she lowered the glass, licking her full lips, Ros leaned in, her hot breath brushing Theon's neck as she spoke.  
'I can help you forget whatever it is you're running from,' she said, pulling back so that her dark eyes appraised him with a sultry look. 

He looked at her, glancing quickly up and down her body, wrapped in a tight black dress that just covered her curvy arse. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulder like fire. Her eyes looked hungry.  
'Sure,' he said. 'Why the fuck not.' At least she wanted him. And if it wasn't anything to do with him, and was everything to do with his new status … well sober Theon could worry about that later.  
She smiled, and it was a predatory smile, like a big cat about to pounce. She grabbed his good hand and led him back to the dance floor.

The music had turned gritty, dirty. All across the dancefloor, people were grinding, making out, getting lost in each other. Theon's eye was drawn by Gendry and despite his simmering anger, he felt a muted pleasure for the man as he watched him finally get what he was after. They made a hot couple. Pod was dancing with his back to Gendry, his arms reaching up behind himself to fist in Gendry's hair. His shirt rode up to expose a stomach that was much more toned than Theon had realised. Gendry was plastered to Pod's back, hips moving against him in a lazy, teasing circle with the beat. His mouth was buried in Pod's neck and as Theon watched, Pod arched against Gendry, as his tattooed, muscled arms roamed down his body, one across Pod's chest, the other moving smoothly down the front of his jeans, slipping inside. Theon saw Pod's mouth fall open and Gendry's movements slowed as he ground Pod back into him. His head came up and his hand moved up from Pod's chest to his face, pushing him around and into a wet, messy, desperate kiss.

Theon felt the alcohol singing through his body. It mixed with the burning, unresolved wanting he'd been living with for months now, and sparked off what he was seeing. He imagined that was him and Jon and resolutely pushed away the images of exactly what he'd seen Jon doing earlier in the night. Then Ros was touching him, her hands on his shoulders as she pulled his head down to hers and she was kissing him. It felt good - to have someone's mouth on his. Someone's body in his arms. It wasn't right. She wasn't right. But he was drunk. And he _needed_. If he couldn't have what he wanted, he could have something, couldn't he?

Suddenly there was a rough hand on his shoulder, pulling him back a few steps, away from Ros' warm body. His eyes snapped open and he stumbled slightly. Then Jon's strong hands were on him and the other man leaned in, shouting to be heard.  
'Can I talk to you for a minute?'  
Theon looked at him, looked at the serious expression in his dark eyes, looked at the way his markings were spiking in agitation, looked at how close Jon was, at how good his damned hands _still_ felt on his body.  
'Yeah,' he rasped, cursing himself for being so fucking weak, as Jon led him to the back of the room, to one of the dark, pillow-filled alcoves.

Theon sat, back against the wall, vaguely surprised by the way the sound dropped off once he was inside. Jon moved until he sat opposite him, knees nearly touching in the dimly lit space. He didn’t say anything, just watched, eyes shadowed, like he was struggling to find the words.  
'What!' Theon said, some of his anger from earlier flaring back into life. It wasn't Jon's fault how he felt. He knew that. But damned if he didn't want to tell the man to go to hell right now.

Jon reached out, putting a hand on Theon's knee. 'Are you okay?' he asked.  
Theon felt the touch burning through him and he snorted, letting some of the seething unhappiness out, 'What do you care?' he spat.  
Jon looked taken aback. 'I'm your friend,' he said, face full of concern, and something more. Something he seemed to be struggling to hide.  
Theon felt the word like a punch. Yep friends. They were friends.  
'Friends should be happy for each other when they're hooking up,' he said, aware of the vicious irony as he spoke the words.  
Jon's face twisted with something at the reminder but it was gone too quickly for Theon to understand what it was.

'I - I would be,' that flash of emotion passed across Jon's face again. His tattoos were a roiling mess of emotion. 'But she's - well I've seen people like her before. I don't want you to get hurt, that's all.' He ran his other hand through his glossy black curls as he spoke and Theon snorted.  
'I bet you've seen them before, you seem to be fucking your way through a castle worth of them.'  
Jon recoiled, taking his hand off Theon's knee. He missed the loss of the touch immediately, while internally he cringed back from the cruelness of his words.  
'That's - that's not how it is. You don't understand,' Jon leaned forward, pushing himself up onto his knees, reaching out for Theon's shoulders as though desperate to make him understand.

The move brought their faces close together and Theon's breath caught despite himself. Jon's eyes were so full of emotion as he entreated Theon to listen.  
'Please. Don't do that with her. Not tonight. Not while you're drunk. If you still want her in the morning - if it still sounds like a good idea …' Jon frowned as though he could _never_ imagine it sounding like a good idea.  
His knees were either side of Theon's legs, his hands hot and strong on Theon's arms. He felt want shiver through him and wondered if it was wrong - if there was something wrong with him, after everything that had happened that night, to still want Jon as badly as he did.

He licked his lips, unconsciously, and Jon's gaze darted down to watch the movement. Theon's breath caught in his throat, sudden heat flooding through him.  
'Why do you care so much?' Theon asked again, softly this time.  
Jon hesitated, face only inches from Theon's, body almost touching his.  
'I - I want …' Then his eyes dropped to Theon's mouth again and he growled. It was a growl of frustration. Of want. Of surrender.

Theon felt the sound shiver through him and his heartbeat skipped at the sound.  
'Fuck it,' Jon whispered and then he pushed forward, his hands coming up to hold Theon's face and his lips meeting his in a bruising kiss. Theon was frozen for the merest second at the touch, and the feeling of Jon's mouth on his, Jon's body against his, and then he drew in a quick, hard breath, bringing his hands up to Jon's hair, fisting them tightly and pulling Jon against him. He deepened the kiss immediately, groaning at the feeling of Jon's hot mouth against his, their tongues sliding together as Jon moved desperately against him. Jon moaned in return, pushing against him so Theon slid sideways on the cushioned platform and Jon was on top of him, grinding down into him. They exchanged kisses hard and fast, panting and moving against each other, tongues entwining. It was filthy and hot and Theon punched out a moan that was almost a sob as he felt Jon's hard cock rub against his with delicious friction. Heat was raging through him. His hands moved down Jon's body, desperate to touch every part of him, all at once. He pulled at the other man's shirt, wanting it up. Off. He needed skin. He needed to feel Jon's naked body against his. Months worth of frustrated longing boiled through him, intensifying every reaction.  
'Want you,' he gasped. 'In me.'

At the words, Jon froze, breaking the kiss and breathing hard, shaking slightly as he fought to get himself under control, then he drew back, eyes wide.  
'I'm sorry,' he said, pushing himself back onto his knees, putting space between them. 'Theon I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - Fuck! I'm just as bad as she is.'  
Theon felt the words rip through him and his dazed ecstasy shattered as he took them in. _I didn't mean to_. He stared at Jon, uncomprehending and Jon shook his head, a look of panic coming into his eyes.  
'I have to go,' he said abruptly, pushing himself out of the alcove and back into the noise of the party. Theon lay back on the cushions, watching him go in stunned silence. He felt blindsided. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus. And then he saw, through the darkness, Jon jerk his head at Loras and Renly, pointing at the door.

The three of them left quickly, Jon turning back at the door for one long, tormented look through the darkness. Theon felt understanding burn through him like acid.  
'Fucking mother fucker!' he swore loudly, pushing himself up and out of the alcove and then through the crowded dance floor, heedless of who he shoved out of his way. His throat burned with the feeling of betrayal that crawled up it. That kiss - to kiss him like that - his body still shuddered from the feeling of it - to do that and then to take it back. To take it back and immediately leave to fuck someone else. He suddenly felt like he wanted to be sick. He had to get out. Get away from the lot of them. He could feel his breath panting through his chest. He pushed his way towards the main door as fast as he could manage, one hand on the stone wall for balance.

There was a scuffing sound behind him, and then a shouted voice. 'Theon! Theon damn it. Wait will you!'  
Theon lurched to a halt, gritting his teeth and whirling to face Robb. His anger, his humiliation rising in him. 'What!' he growled out, and Robb blanched slightly at the look on his face. He leaned in closer to shout, 'Can we talk please? There's a few things I think you should know …'  
Theon shook his head with a snort of disgust and turned back the way he was going, stumbling slightly as he did. 'I think I got the message loud and clear Stark. Leave me alone.'

Robb reached out and jerked him to a halt, stepping quickly in front of him. 'Theon, stop. Please. Just hear me out. Then if you still want nothing to do with him, I wont say anything again.'  
Theon growled under his breath, gritting his teeth. _I want_ everything _to do with him, that's the fucking problem_ , he thought, mind flinching away again from the image of the three of them leaving the room together. He could still feel Jon's mouth on his damnit. 

Robb looked at him, eyes huge and curls soft in the torch light. He looked so damned earnest and Theon sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat.  
'Fine. Talk.'

'Let's get out of here,' Robb said, looking around himself, as though checking there was no one to overhear. Theon rolled his eyes, but complied and they exited the room and walked together in silence until they reached the ground floor and stepped out into one of the courtyards, lit only by faint, flickering torches.

Robb sat on the edge of a stone windowsill and Theon leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, wondering why he was wasting his time. Then Robb looked up at him, a range of emotions crossing his face as he apparently decided where to start.  
'So what Jon did tonight … he's got this thing - this system -'  
'I don’t know why you think I give a shit who Jon Snow is fucking,' Theon interrupted, voice angry. Robb just looked at him, eyes full of pity and sadness and Theon subsided, pushing away the hurt that wanted to climb back up his throat.

'Do you know what it's been like for him since we got here?' Robb said suddenly.  
Theon shrugged, thinking back to the stares, the people who reached up the courage to brush against Jon Snow, to come up and say hello, to flirt and ask for more.  
'So people are into him. I don't see what the big deal is.'  
Robb sighed, kicking his legs against the stone. 'You wouldn't even know most of it. Since he got here, we've had about one love potion a week found in gifts that have been delivered to the ship for him. In the first few weeks, he was stuck in a classroom three or four times with someone who basically groped him without his permission or tried to go down on him. One time it was a _fucking teacher_. He'll only shower on the boat because the second time he tried to use your Quidditch showers, some seventh year guy came in naked behind him and shoved him up against the wall. It's _constant_ Theon. People don't even see him as a person. They see him as Jon Snow - a prize to be won. A hot Quidditch star to try and snag. No one gives a shit about him as a person.'

Finally Robb stopped, drawing a breath. Theon was shocked, despite himself. He hadn't realised it was quite that bad. But still.  
'Maybe he shouldn't fucking encourage it then,' he spat, anger flaring anew at the memories from earlier in the night.  
Robb looked at him, disagreement across his face. 'That's not what he's doing. You'll see tomorrow. I almost feel sorry for the two he went off with tonight.'  
Theon snorted. Feel sorry for them? He'd kill to be them.  
Robb seemed to sense his disbelief. 'I'm so sorry you got caught in the middle of things tonight, but he's pig-headed like that. Once he has a goal he chases it, no matter what comes up, he keeps his eyes on his goal until he's achieved it. It's what makes him such a good Seeker.' Rob paused and sighed. 'Jon has a system. He's had it for a few years. He gets to a new place. He gets bombarded. He picks out two or three of the hottest, most popular, or most powerful people. People who want him. People who don't look beyond his face. He sleeps with them,' Robb shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable at the statement. Theon felt his jealously flare again. 'And then he dumps them. He destroys them. You saw him do it with that Margaery chick. He makes it sound like they were the worst lay he ever had.'

Theon looked at Robb, eyebrows raised, some of his anger trickling away and understanding starting to take its place, and Robb nodded. 'He has no interest in those two. He's playing a game. You watch. Once they've spread around how amazing he was and he's spread around how he could barely get it up for them … things will stop. I wouldn't believe it, but I've seen it happen more than once. Everyone else - everyone below them on the social ladder - loses their nerve. It's like they start thinking - "if that lot aren't good enough for him, I'll never have a chance".' Robb shrugs.  
Theon however - Theon could see how it worked. He'd been feeling the same feelings. Jon was so far out of his league already. If people like Margaery and Loras and Renly weren't good enough for Jon, what hope did Theon have. Jon had kissed him, sure. But he'd taken it back straight away. It had been a mistake. Jon had been drunk, that was probably all it was, getting mixed up with who he was supposed to be doing what with. And straight after that he'd gone to finish his play. To protect himself.

Theon sighed bitterly, letting his arms drop to his sides and sagging back against the stone wall, closing his eyes and letting the resignation he felt fill his voice. 'Who on earth could be good enough for him? He's fucking amazing - his looks, his skills ... his heart.'  
He felt his hopes, his dreams, as flimsy as they had been, curling up and dying as he said the words. Jon didn’t want him. Jon would never want him. He needed to crush it. Crush every thought he'd had about being more than friends. The last of the anger left him then. He'd been acting like a jealous boyfriend. But he wasn't Jon's boyfriend.

Jon didn't need a lover. He wasn't looking for one. But he needed friends, that was clear. Theon could do that. He could be that. If he hadn't fucked it up completely with his words. With his begging like a shameless whore. If Jon still wanted him as a friend … if nothing was the alternative … he could be just friends.

Theon pushed off the wall abruptly. He needed to get out of here. He needed to be alone. To mourn what he had hoped for. What Jon's lips on his had made him imagine for the briefest instant.  
Robb didn't say anything as Theon disappeared into the darkness. But his eyes were full of understanding and compassion. He'd seen, just for a moment, the way Theon saw Jon, and he knew - he knew right down to his core, that this was more than lust. This was more than infatuation … this might just be what Jon had been holding out for. His eyes were troubled as they followed Theon's fading shape into the darkness of the school corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the emotionally devestating rollercoaster otherwise known as Chapter 22. 
> 
> I'm really nervous about this chapter so I would be verrrry keen on your thoughts. Constructive criticism is welcome. That was a lot to swallow. 
> 
> @theonsfavouritetoy - my eternal muse. Thank you so much for all the prompts this chapter. I love the Ros one the best
> 
> @erihan - I didn't manage to give Dany and Drogo any dialogue. But they're all creepin' that's for sure. 
> 
> @everyone ... Slow burn is less slow ;)


	23. Chapter 23

Saturday was pain. Everything hurt. He hid in his room - in his bed with the hangings closed. He could go down to the Hospital Wing for a hangover potion. Healer Maegyr would probably give him one. She'd probably be glad to see him for something that was self-induced and harmless for a change.

But leaving his room meant that he might run into other students. He might have to hear about just what happened when Renly and Loras left the party last night with Jon. He might have to see Jon. Theon winced at the thought. Despite his drunken thought patterns the night before - ramblings about how he could be there for Jon in whatever capacity he wanted him … Now his memory played out the rest of the night in cruel detail. Anger stirred at the way Jon had pulled him away from the red-haired woman. Why was Snow the only one who got to hook up? What fucking right did he have?

_And then to kiss me …. To kiss me like that…_ He felt simmering heat roll through him at the memory. He could still feel Jon's hard body against his, feel the way the other man's lips and tongue had claimed his mouth. It had been the hottest kiss he'd ever felt, bringing him to the edge more quickly than he'd thought possible.

He pushed the memory away angrily. Snow probably hadn't even thought about it again. After all he'd had plenty more to occupy himself straight after. He felt the seething jealousy swirl through him again, increasing the pounding in his head. He rolled over with a groan, closing his eyes and waiting for sleep again.

\----

Monday morning he was ambushed on his way to the showers. He'd avoided company the day before as well, catching up on the volumes of work he needed to complete before the Christmas break, which was fast approaching. But he hadn't been able to avoid the juicy gossip his fellow Gryffindors seemed determined to spread around the common room. _Did you hear about Snow and the two Ravenclaws on Friday? I heard they did it all night long. I heard they did every position you can think of. I heard at one point the two of them were fucking Renly._ He'd retreated to his room, sick anger roiling through him.  
'Hey Greyjoy,' Gendry said, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he fell into step beside him. Theon grunted a hello. When it became obvious Theon would say no more, Gendry shrugged and started speaking.  
'So I had the best fuck of my life on Friday night,' Theon eyed him sourly, but he continued obliviously. 'Like seriously. The size on that boy. And he can _use_ it, you know?'  
Theon turned to him, losing patience, 'No, I don't know. Because I didn't fuck anyone on Friday night. Your hero of a Quidditch player decided he knew what was best for me. Oh,' he turned at the door to the showers, 'And if you're here to babysit me, that idea can fuck right off too.'

Gendry looked at him, mouth wide, hands held up placatingly, 'Hey, dude, sorry. I didn't realise.' Then he stopped, looking confused. 'Wait, are you saying _Jon_ cock blocked you? He was probably je-' Gendry cut off whatever he had been about to say abruptly, scuffing his foot and looking down. 'That sucks man,' he said after a minute. Theon snorted and headed for the shower.

He was feeling bad about taking his anger out on Gendry, it wasn't his fault, and when he got out of the shower to see the Durmstrang student still there, he just sighed and muttered a 'sorry'. 'Don't worry about it,' Gendry said cheerfully, falling in beside him again as they headed down to breakfast. Theon had thought about skipping it, but he'd barely eaten the day before and he figured that he was bound to hear all the rumours anyway, so it may as well be up front.  
When he slid into his place at the table, the usual crew were all assembled … All except Jon. Theon looked around without making it obvious but couldn't see any sign of him.  
Ygritte caught his eye. 'Your sister said to say bye.'  
Theon looked at her, feeling guilty at the realisation that while he'd been hiding, Asha had left. 'She figured you didn't want company and said she was expecting a win at the next challenge.'  
Theon felt a jolt at her words and realised he'd forgotten all about the next challenge. Where had his golden egg even got to? He hadn't even opened it yet.

The arrival of the post broke his thoughts. A newspaper smacked down in front of Robb and Theon choked at the image moving across the front page. He reached for the paper, bringing it closer to read the headline. _Schoolyard Romance or Dangerous Seduction?'_ The picture below it was a shot from inside the tent at the first Triwizard Challenge. It showed Theon's startled face as Jon reached out to pull him into a hug, then Theon's arms pulling Jon closer and his face moving to Jon's neck, before they broke apart, looking guilty, and then moved together again on an endless loop.

The memory of that innocent hug and how he'd felt at the time brought a painful twist to Theon's chest. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then. Against his better judgement, he began to read the article.  
_Intrepid reporter, Petyr Baelish has uncovered a web of seductions spanning the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The spider at its heart? None other than Triwizard Champion Theon Greyjoy. Our readers might remember that Greyjoy came to his position as a Champion by underhand means. In a Tournament of three Champions, Greyjoy was a fourth, sewing discord between competing Wizarding schools. A source close to Greyjoy says, 'Theon has always been ambitious, sniffing around those who have more power. This isn't the first time he's pulled something like this.'_ Theon swore under his breath, 'Fucking source my arse. If those aren't Bolton's words I'll be damned.'  
He kept reading, somehow needing to know what the damage was.  
_And where does handsome, strong, innocent Jon Snow feature in his schemes? We have it on good authority that Greyjoy has ruined not one - but three! - attempted relationships for the Quidditch Champion. Greyjoy was spotted Friday night grappling with young Jon in a much more compromising position than we have featured here. It may have been the last straw that broke the blossoming new relationship between Jon Snow and Renly Baratheon, young cousin of none other than the Minister for Magical Sports and Games, Robert Baratheon. Greyjoy's interference knows no shame it seems!'_  
Theon felt his fingers tightening on the paper as he gritted his teeth. That was so far from the truth - so blatantly unfair. He felt his anger from the morning stirring, mixing with shame at the thought that the entire Wizarding world now knew what had happened Friday night. Then his thoughts jerked to a halt and he frowned. How the fuck did _Baelish_ know what had happened Friday night? And what did he mean Theon had destroyed the relationship? All he'd heard was what an _amazing_ night Loras and Renly had had. He cast his mind back to Robb's words - that it was all a strategy Jon was using so he would be left alone - and snorted. Sure it was. 

He turned his attention back to the article, figuring it was better to know first hand what people would be saying about him. He flicked past the glowing summary of Jon's performance and the few short lines about the other two Champions and came to the section about himself.  
_A full investigation will be conducted into the circumstances that led to Greyjoy being provided with another wand during the challenge. Cheating? Who can say. Nothing can be taken for granted where this Champion is concerned. All we can say for sure is that the lowering of the apparition wards for the Challenge was a lucky break for Greyjoy, who surely would not have survived without the assistance of a number of dragon handlers who stunned his beast for him. This was probably a move the wily student was counting on, however._ Theon felt his anger flare higher as he read, this part of the article infuriating him just as bad as the rest combined. That bastard Baelish was making it sound like he'd done nothing on his own and had had to be rescued. 

He had just thrown the paper down in disgust when a commotion caught his attention. He looked over to the Ravenclaw table at the the same time as half the school and his mouth dropped open when the words being exchanged floated over to him. Snow's voice seemed to be pitched particularly loudly so it would carry over the packed Hall, which had fallen strangely silent.  
'I'm not your _baby_ ,' he sneered, looking down at Renly, still seated, and Loras, who had risen into a half crouch and frozen there at the look on Snow's face.  
'I'm not your anything. If you two are the best lay this school has to offer I feel sorry for you Southerners. I've had better _wanks_ than that.'  
Theon almost felt sorry for them. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like if Jon ever looked at him with that look in his eyes. It was empty. Like he wasn't even seeing them. Like they meant nothing to him - less than nothing. Even his tattoos were still - flat and black. He shivered. 

Then Snow turned and his gaze moved over the whole Hall and his voice rose again. 'I don't want any of you. I can't even express how little interest I have in any of you.' His tone was cold and hard. Theon saw awkward shifting and whispering spread throughout the Hall.  
At that moment Lord Tywin rose, speaking over the noise, an annoyed look on his face. 'Thank you Mr Snow. That will do I believe.' 

Jon looked up at him for a moment, face unreadable, then he turned away from the shocked faces and strode towards the Gryffindor table. Theon stood hurriedly, pushing himself from the table. He couldn't face the man. Not now. Not in front of everyone. He had no idea what he would say or do. No idea what he wanted to. The words echoed through his mind. _I don't want any of you. I can't even express how little interest I have in any of you._

He nearly ran into Professor Lannister as he was leaving the Hall. The man reached out a hand to stop him. 'Mr. Greyjoy, I'll need your wand please.' Theon looked at him, confused. 'Someone talked to you after the Challenge?'  
Theon's confused look didn't lighten and the Professor shook his head, muttering something under his breath about incompetence.  
'No one told you to bring your wand to me after the Challenge to be checked for Dark Magic interference did they?'  
Theon pulled his thoughts away from what he'd just witnessed, tried to calm the turmoil that was writhing through his mind and focus on what the Professor was asking.  
'No, Sir,' he said, meeting the shorter man's eyes.  
'I told you to call me Tyrion,' the other man said, but his voice was gentle as he held out his hand. Theon reached into his robes and handed over his wand, unsure how he felt about parting with it, despite what he feared had been done to it.  
Tyrion seemed to read his thoughts, 'Do you know what happened, lad?'  
Theon hesitated, a few people already knew some of what had happened over the last year or so. And Tyrion had come down hard on Bolton when he'd caught him in the courtyard that time. He made up his mind. It was time to start doing something about this, instead of just being a victim of it.  
'Bolton tampered with it,' he said, certainly in his voice. 'In the tent, before the challenge, when all the wands were being checked.' 

Tyrion grunted an acknowledgement, rolling the wand between his fingers as he studied it. 'Right,' he said finally, his normal eye meeting Theon's while his magical one stayed on the wand. 'Have you performed any magic with this since the challenge?' Theon shook his head.  
'Good. I'll let you know what I find.' With that the Professor tucked the wand inside his tatty overcoat and strode away from the Hall, wooden foot clumping rhythmically on the flagstones. 

Theon glanced briefly over his shoulder as he stepped through the huge doors of the Great Hall and his eyes locked for a second with Snow's. Jon was standing at the Gryffindor table, looking directly at him, something twisted in his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something across the divide, but Theon turned away, hurrying from the Hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baelish is such a rat 
> 
> Next ch will be Jon and Theon figuring out where they stand with each other .... Hoping to have it for you by tomorrow!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much to @half_life for some insights that helped to make this chapter turn out the way it did!

He made it through most of the day without talking to Jon. A few times the other man approached him, but Theon turned immediately to whoever was near him and started up a conversation. He couldn't help noticing the entire student body seemed to be giving Jon a wide berth now. No one wanted to be stripped down publicly the way Loras and Renly had been. No one wanted to risk being around him. Jon seemed much more comfortable with that state of affairs, too. Theon was so used to watching the man so closely that he noticed that there was a tightness to his shoulders that was gone, a sense of wariness that didn't seem to be as present. He wondered idly just how bad it had been for the man. Wondered if that excused how he had behaved, thinking again of the scene in the Hall with a twinge of sympathy for the two Ravenclaw students. He knew how it felt to be humiliated in front of the whole school - those two had the social standing to weather the storm without any lasting damage, but it was still a dick move, despite how much Theon had hated watching the three of them together for the last few weeks.

He caught himself thinking about Jon again and again, trying to puzzle him out, and he pushed his mind away every time he did, with another spurt of anger at himself, as well as at Jon. At lunch he made himself scarce and in class he sat right near the teachers. As the day wore on, Jon's face got more and more frustrated. Theon didn't know exactly why he was avoiding the other man. He didn't know how he felt full stop - his thoughts were darting around his head like a swarm of pixies. And he didn't want to talk to Jon about whatever he wanted to without being straight about it himself.  
He avoided Jon's eyes during dinner and after he'd cleared his plate he pushed back from the table with a wave to everyone, intending to head back up to the Gryffindor common room and see if he could pull his focus together enough to get some more study done. Jon immediately pushed his plate away, standing up as well. Theon narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything.

He walked out of the Hall stiffly and when he reached the entrance hall, out of sight of the dining students, he turned to Jon, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. Jon paused in front of him, looking suddenly uncertain. His tattoos were swirling like mad again, flicking into a pattern for a moment, before dissolving and reforming, as though they couldn't decide which shape to take.   
'Can we talk?' He finally said.  
Theon raised an eyebrow, wordlessly inviting him to say what he wanted to say. Jon winced at the look on his face.  
'Not here. Can we go for a walk?'  
Theon sighed but dropped his arms to his sides and headed for the doors from the castle. Jon fell into step beside him, about half a pace away. It was nearing dusk, the sun was just starting to set and the air was cold. It felt like it would snow soon. Theon pulled his robes more tightly around himself. Jon glanced across and pulled out his wand, making the complicated motion of a warming charm at himself before looking at Theon questioningly. Theon couldn't repress a shiver at the through the of someone else pointing a wand at him, performing magic on him. He thought, maybe, not long ago he might have felt okay with Jon doing it - things had felt so comfortable, so natural. But now - he shook his head. Jon's eyes tightened but he put his wand away. 

They walked together in silence down to the lake, a million things swirling around in Theon's mind. A million things he wanted to know - to demand. They came to a huge pile of rock on the shore and Jon boosted himself up onto one, looking out over the still lake, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Theon leaned against a smooth boulder, watching him, waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to say what was so damned important that he had to drag Theon out into the cold. Suddenly he was sick of it. Sick of Jon Snow calling the shots. Telling him what to do - telling everyone what to do. He glared at the man, feeling his anger come rushing back to the surface. Then the words were leaving his mouth without him being conscious of deciding to say them.

'Where do you get off?' he demanded. Jon's head jerked back around towards him, and he met Theon's words with startled eyes. 'You had no right on Friday. You had no right to stop me and -' he faltered, the name not feeling right in his mouth, a sourness overlaying the memory. 'Me and Ros. That was none of your business.'  
Jon frowned and looked down, seeming to hunch in on himself a bit. He kicked his feet against the rock with dull thuds.  
'I'm sorry,' he said in a low voice. 'I just couldn't bear to to see her - I didn't want her taking advantage of you. You were so drunk - you didn't know what you were doing.'  
Theon felt his anger rise, 'I knew _exactly_ what I was doing. You don't get to make those decisions for me.'  
'I know,' Jon said, the dark markings around his eyes flattening out and making him look almost submissive. 'I know, but she's bad news. She doesn't want you for you - she's like all those other leeches that try to suck the life out of me. You can't -'

Theon interrupted him, raising a hand. 'You can't say "I'm sorry, _but_ ". You don't get to make those decisions for me. Just because things are one way for you doesn't mean they are for me. Maybe I want a meaningless fuck. That's not your call to make.' Jon's face looked wounded at his words and Theon found himself thinking he wanted so much more than a meaningless fuck. He wanted to feel safe and loved and _worth something_. He pushed those thoughts away, gritting his teeth and spoke again.  
'And while we're on it, you're a right twat, you know that?' He growled. 'What you did to those two this morning - they did nothing to deserve that. Nothing except be into you. Well lock half the school up for that fucking crime!'  
Jon's eyes narrowed and for the first time, anger came into his face as well.   
'You think that was harsh? You think they did nothing to deserve that?' He pushed forward off the rock so he was standing right in front of Theon. 

'Let me tell you a few things about how pure and innocent those two were. When I was "with",' he made inverted commas in the air with his fingers, 'his sister, I was dreaming every night about Loras. You know why? He had his sister lace my drink with illicio - you know the seduction potion? Highly regulated between consenting users,' he snorted bitterly, 'unless your family has enough money to bypass the laws.' Jon's face darkened as he thought about it. 'So here's me waking up covered in my own come every night - over this guy I don't even know, let alone want.' His face reddened with embarrassment and a hint of shame at the words he was speaking. Theon felt a jolt at the picture Jon painted. He knew exactly how it felt to have your mind messed with. To be forced to want something against your will. It made you feel dirty. It made you feel used.   
'Then I find notes left in my books about how certain "families" had the ability to make things easier for mine ... Or make them harder, depending on the choices I made. It was on parchment printed with a stag letterhead for fucks sake. Not the sharpest tools in the shed those Baratheons.'  
Jon's gaze sharpened. 'No one fucks with the people I care about Theon. No one.' His look was chilling and Theon found himself re-evaluating what he'd seen - re-appraising who was the hunter and who was the hunted. Jon's gaze was intense on Theon now, as though entreating him to understand.  
'Theon, I've _never_ done that to someone who didn't come after me first, who didn't push me until I just couldn't deal with it anymore and who didn't want to spread the story of what happened as far and as wide as they could for their own ego and to boost their own social status.' He grimaced. 'People like that are leeches. There's nothing real about them. They think of nothing and no one but themselves and how they can get ahead in life. The deserve whatever they get.' He lifted his chin, his gaze defiant now, backing himself, backing his decisions. 

Theon just looked at him, heart pounding, hearing the words echo through his mind, seeing the sincerity in Jon's stance, in his face. He felt his hold on his anger slipping. Jon had a right to fight back. Didn't he?  
'Why didn't you just tell someone? Show them the notes at least?' he asked.   
Jon barked out a short laugh, but his stance eased up at the less accusatory tone Theon was using.   
' _You're_ telling me I should go to a teacher when I'm being victimised by someone?' He quirked an eyebrow playfully and Theon felt himself flush.  
'That's different,' he muttered.  
Jon shrugged, 'Not really. It wouldn't have stopped it. They're all purebloods. They all have connections in the Ministry. The best that would have happened would have been a slap on the wrist. Or maybe it would have stopped those two, then five more would have taken their places.'  
He leaned against the rock beside Theon, close enough that they were almost touching. Jon's grey eyes were looking deeply into his.  
'I've tried it other ways. When I was younger. When I didn't want men twice my age chasing after me, when I just wanted to be left alone …' His voice got quieter and his eyes dropped, 'When I still thought I could have something real.' Then his voice strengthened again. 'But nothing works! Nothing works except putting them in their place.' 

Theon sighed and felt the last of the anger leaving him. Jon's life was a mess. He looked so lost. So alone. He thought about what the other man had said … Thought about what else had happened on Friday night … About what had really been tying him in knots. He took a deep breath and asked the thing he most desperately wanted to know.  
'Why did you kiss me?'  
It was darker now, the sun almost set, and he was glad for the dusky light to hide the blush of heat that crossed his face as he spoke those words. Jon's face seemed to redden as well and his markings swirled into life again, moving across his skin in smooth, sinuous patterns.  
'I - ah. I didn't know if you remembered that. I'm sorry - I shouldn't have taken advantage -'  
'Why?' Theon interrupted, feeling unusually bold. There was just something about Jon that made him feel stronger. Made him feel more like he used to … before.  
Jon bit his lip, dropping his eyes and then glancing back up at Theon, looking unaccountably shy. 'I just - seeing you with her. I didn't - it made me realise …' He seemed to pull back from what he had been about to say, taking a deep breath and steadying himself.  
'Theon, I know we haven't known each other for very long, but you're my closest friend. You know things about me that even Robb doesn't know. There's just something about you that makes me feel comfortable - like I know I don't have to watch my back around you, waiting for the other shoe to drop - waiting for the ulterior motive. You have no idea how different that is for me. It's amazing.'

Theon listened, warmed by what Jon was saying, by the obvious importance he placed on Theon's presence in his life, but feeling a slow creep of dread at where he thought the conversation was going. Sure enough, Jon's next words turned that creep into a stab of disappointment.  
'I don't want to do anything to damage that friendship,' his eyes were pleading. 'I - I shouldn't have done … What I did. I won't do it again. I promise. Can we still be okay?'  
Theon wanted to shout at him again, to say that he _wanted_ him to do it again. But something made the words catch in his throat. He thought about what Jon had said - about his certainty that he wouldn't be able to find something real to share with someone who loved him for him. Theon thought - he was starting to realise how far in over his head he was. He had moved so far beyond his initial lust. He liked Jon as a person … More than liked if he was honest with himself. The idea scared him. The idea of opening himself up to someone again - making himself so vulnerable … He didn't know if he could do that. If he could take the leap to be what Jon was looking for - what he needed.

He thought again about Jon's words, _I don't have to watch my back around you, waiting for the other shoe to drop - waiting for the ulterior motive_. Jon wasn't ready to go there … And if Theon was honest with himself … If he put his desperate need aside … If he forgot about the feeling of Jon's hands on his body and the taste of the other man in his mouth … Neither was he. Not yet.

He felt a strange resolve flow through him. Friends he could do. Friends for now. God knows he needed that connection just as much as Jon did.  
He nodded and smiled, a smile that felt natural - happy.  
'Always,' he said, and Jon's face flooded with relief. Theon's smile deepened and he pushed away from the rock, turning back towards the castle. Jon stepped up beside him and Theon looked across, 'Can I have that warming charm now please?'  
Jon smiled, making the complicated motion with his wand. Theon felt the warmth flow over him like a blanket, making him feel relaxed, safe. The silence between them was comfortable now, as they walked back up to the castle side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Much. Angst. ;)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ch got a little out of control and ended up sweet. Like sickly sweet. Like cavities sweet ...

The rest of the week passed smoothly, Theon feeling happier and more relaxed than he had in a long time. Somehow his decision to just let things take their own pace and see what happened had taken a huge weight off his shoulders that he didn't even know he'd been carrying. That layer of self-consciousness he'd always felt around Jon was gone, stripped away by what he now knew about the other man - what he'd gone through and what he would probably still have to face. Knowing that - in some ways - Jon was just like him, made the other man feel more real, more relatable as a person than he had before. Theon didn't feel the same desperate need to say the right thing. To impress him. To be better than everyone else who was hanging around him, waiting for their chance. Now ... Now things felt easier. Jon smiled a lot more too. 

They had gone back to studying together during their lunch breaks and most nights in the library, and occasionally heading out into the Forbidden Forest so Jon could practice his spell work. Theon - his wand still being inspected - just watched and offered advice on technique where he could. Jon was getting much more confident with the regular practice and someone to help him see where he was going wrong. It made Theon smile to see the triumph in the other man's face when he mastered something particularly challenging.  
Bolton was still in the Hospital Wing, something that only added to the feeling of lightness Theon felt. He'd heard from Robb though that the man was due out before the end of the week.

Even that news couldn't dampen his anticipation of the coming weekend. A Hogsmeade trip was always a treat and he'd missed every one last year ... Too stressed out about being off the school grounds and vulnerable to Bolton and his cronies to risk it.  
He glanced across at Jon, who was drawing idly on a scrap of parchment while he noted down the occasional key word from Professor Baratheon's bone dry lecture on the role that the Children of the Forest had had in the establishment of Weirwood groves. The other man had gotten better at drawing the line between disinterested nonchalance and capturing what he needed to know to be able to keep up with the class. Theon smirked slightly as he watched him, finding the façade funny now that he knew what was underneath it. 

At that moment Jon glanced across at him and quirked an eyebrow, then he drew his wand under the table, whispered something over a piece of parchment and passed it to Theon. He looked down at the blank square with confusion. Two desks across from him, Jon bent back to his tasks, quill scratching across his page. Theon glanced at the bit of parchment again and was startled to see words appear in Jon's looping hand.  
_So what's the big deal about this Hog thing your Headmaster was talking about this morning?_  
Theon hesitated as the words faded away just as quickly as they'd appeared, then glanced across at Jon, whose eyes flicked down to Theon's parchment. Theon dipped his own quill and applied it to the now blank-again square. 

_Hogsmeade is brilliant_ , he wrote, watching as the ink disappeared as though being absorbed into the parchment.  
Jon's writing came back almost immediately, _Yeah?_  
Theon smiled, completely tuning out the Professor's dull voice as he began to write. _Yeah, I haven't been in a while, but there's heaps of brilliant places to visit. There's Dervish and Bangs where you can stock up on stuff for school if you need, and Honeydukes sweetshop. Oh Gods, tell me you've had Every Flavour Beans!_  
There was a snort of laughter from Jon's table and a quickly scrawled, _We do have sweets in the North, Theon. What else?_

He smiled and kept scribbling, _Umm there's the Three Broomsticks, that's the pub you go to if you don't want to be sworn at. Or there's the Dogs Head. The innkeeper's a grumpy prick but they do the most amazing fried chicken … Or any chicken really. That's basically all they serve there._ He paused for a moment, thinking, then smirked and kept writing.  
_They also have Zonko's Joke Shop … actually maybe you should steer clear of that …_

He glanced across to see Jon's brows draw down into a small frown, then the other man scribbled a few quick words.  
_Are you saying I don't know how to have fun?_  
Theon's smirk broadened and he scrawled back, _Your words ..._  
There was another snort of laughter from Jon's direction and then the other man darted a glance across him, a mischievous grin on his face.  
Words began to appear under Theon's hand, _You're on Greyjoy! Be prepared to have more fun than you've ever had in your life._  
Theon's eyes widened in surprise and he saw Jon glance across at him, then a few more words appeared, slower this time, _You were planning on going, weren't you?_

He bit his lip to stop the smile that was spreading across it, _Umm I guess so. I assumed a whole bunch of you would want to go and I'd probably tag along._  
_No deal_ , Jon wrote back immediately. _You and me. I'm going to prove to you that I can have fun._  
Theon felt a tingle of anticipation at the words as they faded away into nothingness. Now he was definitely looking forward to the weekend. 

On Saturday morning, Tyrion approached him as he was lining up with the students preparing to head down into the village. Jon was yet to arrive. 'A word, Mr Greyjoy?' He asked, gesturing off to one side. Theon nodded and followed him, stopping when the Professor turned his back on the curious onlookers to hand him his wand back. Just the feel of it in his hand laid to rest something he hadn't realised had been weighing on his mind.  
Tyrion grimaced, 'He's a sneaky bugger, I'll give him that. I think what he did was spell your wand to direct its power temporarily to the other three that were present. It's something Aurors do sometimes, when one of their number is incapacitated but they don't want to take possession of the wand and try to make it work for them. The spell fades quickly, within an hour, both in terms of the power drain and the trace of its existence.'  
He growled in annoyance at the fact. 'I could get a hold of his wand and use _Prior Incantato_ to establish what had happened, but to be honest the sneaky little shit probably didn't even use his own wand for the casting and I don't want to tip him off to the fact that I know what he did.' 

Theon wasn't surprised at the news, but he could feel it pulling at his good mood, sucking him back down into the fear that hid always in the back of his mind. Bolton was meticulous with his games, he planned out every element - accounted for every factor. Theon hadn't expected there to be any evidence. Tyrion seemed to see this reflected in his face. He shrugged a shoulder looking sympathetic.  
'You can be sure that there are no other traps or spells laid on it. I've checked it thoroughly. And he won't be able to pull the same trick next time - I'll personally handle wand security for the next challenge.'  
Theon felt a small measure of relief at the news that his wand was unharmed, but the Professor's promise about the next challenge was hollow. Bolton wouldn't try the same trick again. He hated to be predictable. Theon's agony as he tried to anticipate what was coming would make the game so much sweeter for him.  
Tyrion sighed, 'We'll get him lad. Somehow. You'd best be off now though or you'll miss the trip.' 

Theon turned to see Jon joining the crowd of students, looking around for him. He was dressed in his normal black pants and boots, but instead of his customary sleeveless jerkin, he wore a deep green loosely knitted sweater that was pushed up to his elbows, revealing his muscled forearms. Theon waved to him, catching his eye, and hurrying across to him. He pulled his red and gold striped Gryffindor scarf more tightly around his neck as a gust of snow filled air swirled in the doorway. Just the sight of the other man helped to dispel the gloom that the Professor's words had evoked.  
Behind Jon were most of the Durmstrang students, but he didn't tag back to wait for them. He made his way through the crowd to Theon, flashing him a smile.  
'You got your wand back!'  
Theon looked down, just then realising he still held it in his hand. He tucked it back into the pocket of his warm black jacket with a smile.  
'Yeah, just then. No proof of what happened to it though,' he frowned at the fact. Jon's frown mirrored his.  
'What I wouldn't give to get my hands on that bastard in a fair fight,' he muttered. Theon shivered at the thought - with Bolton there was no such thing as a fair fight. 

Jon caught the movement and forced a smile on to his face. 'Forget about him. Today is about fun remember.'  
Theon snickered, 'I remember. You promised me the most fun day of my life. I warn you, the bar is set very high. Once I spent a whole day collecting seashells and making a scale replica of Hogwarts in sand, complete with students.' His look was dry as his lips twisted in wry amusement at himself.  
Jon snorted at the idea, a wide grin on his face. It wasn't something Theon saw often, but it looked good on him. A few nearby students looked over, but no one said anything or approached, seemingly content to keep their distance from Snow. 

As they went outside Theon saw that overnight it had snowed, the first proper snow of the season. There was a thick blanket over the grounds. With a shock he realised it was only three weeks until Christmas, and he resolved to pick up a few gifts in Hogsmeade. He would be staying at Hogwarts over the break, like he normally did, but this year he actually had people he would like to give something to. He let his mind drift into what he could get from who and was almost surprised as Jon touched him on the arm to ask, 'Where first?'  
Theon looked around, spying Honeydukes. His mouth watered at the memory of last time he'd been inside. Jon spotted the look and grinned, 'Every flavour beans it is.'  
Jon's eyes widened in amazement as he walked in the door and Theon elbowed him, laughing, 'Got sweets in the North do you, Northerner?'  
Jon revolved on the spot, eyes roaming over the fizzing whizzbees flying around the roof, the ice mice scuttling in their cages, the chocolate frogs jumping all over the room. Theon watched him take in the wall filled with hundreds of types of chocolate, the jars upon jars of toffees and treacle and beans of every flavour.  
It was a glorious, riotous, colourful mess. Jon looked entranced. 

Theon laughed again, 'Someone has a sweet tooth. I would have though you were too sour for that.'  
Jon turned back to him, pulling his brows down into a scowl that held little heat, then he grinned, that mischievous look in his eyes again, 'Maybe you don't know me as well as you think. Let's get some of everything!'  
'Everything?' Theon asked dubiously, eyeing the shelves upon shelves of colourful sweets. Jon reconsidered, 'Well maybe not everything, but I definitely want Licorice Wands, and treacle fudge, and a few chocolate frogs, and some snakes alive. Are the ice mice good? I'll get a few of those. Oh look, lemon cakes! And here - Pepper Imps. I love Pepper Imps. Have you ever had Jelly Slugs? Arya went through this phase of eating them with her mouth open all the time. So gross.'  
He was almost talking to himself as he walked around the store filling a large basket with all manner of things. Theon's grin got wider and wider as he watched Jon get lost in the sugary options. The phrase "Like a kid in a candy shop" had never seemed so apt. Jon turned to him with a broad grin, face lit up in pleasure, 'And the pièce de résistance - Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans! Do you want the large or the jumbo? The jumbo I think,' he said, answering his own question before Theon could even open his mouth. 

He clonked the huge basket down on to the counter for Old Nan - the owner - to tally up. Theon stood beside him watching the purchases going into a bag. 'Are you really going to eat all of that?' He asked with a laugh. 'You'll ruin your figure.'  
Jon poked his tongue out at him, surprising him again with the playfulness of the action, 'Don't be stupid, you're going to eat it with me. And I have a very high metabolism, thank you very much!' He affected an air of offence. The old lady behind the counter looked between them with a laugh, and a gentle scolding, 'What sort of comment is that to make about your boyfriend, lad?' 

Theon looked at her, mouth falling open in surprise, then he darted a quick look across at Jon, whose cheeks were pinking slightly.  
'He's not -' he started to say at the same time as Jon said, 'I'm not -'  
They exchanged glances again and subsided into a slightly awkward silence. The shopkeeper just chuckled, 'Like that, it is lads? Old Nan should know better than to tell people things before they know it themselves, shouldn't she. Ah well, at my age I'm due a bit of licence for this sort of thing. That'll be five galleons, two sickles please.'  
Theon gapped at the price, derailed from the woman's comment by the thought of spending that much on sweets. But Jon didn't seem phased at all, he just pulled his money bag out of his pocket, counted out six galleons and told Old Nan to keep the change with a smile. Then he pulled the box of beans out of the bag, grabbed his wand and muttered _Reducio_ over the rest and slipped the much smaller bag into his pocket. 

Theon looked at him impressed. 'I didn't know you could do that charm,' he said.  
Jon nodded, opening the box of beans as they walked out of the shop. 'I travel a lot. It's a very handy charm to know if I don't want to be lugging my own gear all over the place all the time.'  
Theon nodded, that made sense, then Jon offered him the box of beans and he dipped his hand in, pulling out a multi-coloured assortment. Jon pulled out some for himself and then shrank that box as well, before opening his palm and having a look.  
'Want to play a game?' he asked, smirking as he looked up from the beans.  
'Sure,' Theon shrugged, popping one of his own into his mouth. _Honey. Nice._  
'I used to play this with Arya and Rickon all the time. You have to guess the flavour before you eat it. If you guess right, you get to choose another for yourself. If you guess wrong … I get to choose for you,' his smirk deepened as his eyes flashed with mischief and Theon suddenly thought he had an idea of the purpose of the game.  
'You're playing too?' he asked. Jon nodded and he grinned, 'You're on. I know every flavour there is.' 

They moved over to a snow covered fence post and Jon brushed the powder off before they both boosted themselves up, twisting slightly to face each other.  
Theon looked through his assortment and held up a pale gold bean, 'Cream puff,' he said confidently, biting into it. He smiled in satisfaction.  
Jon looked down at his hand, holding up a dark brown bean, a risky move, in Theon's opinion. 'Roast beef,' he said, and then smiled as he tasted it.  
They went back and forth, getting more and more impressed with each others ability to avoid the horrible ones.  
'Blackberry.'  
'Pumpkin.'  
'Pear.'  
'Toffee Pudding.'  
'Fudge Ice cream.'  
'What's that thingy called - the purple flower? Sugared violet.'  
'Chilli.' Jon raised his eyebrows at Theon's willingness to try that one. Then he seemed to decide to take more of a chance, picking up a pale white bean, 'Mashed potato,' he said, with slightly less certainty than he had in the past, then he bit into it, chewing for a moment before gagging. 'Tripe,' he groaned to Theon's cackle of laughter.  
'Ha!' Theon shouted, 'You're mine now, Snow … let's see.' He was quiet a moment as he sorted through the rest of his beans, picking out an off-green colour and handing it over with a gleeful expression.  
Jon took it, eyeing it dubiously, murmuring, 'Overcooked cabbage?' Theon snorted another laugh and nodded and Jon grimaced and bit into it.  
A second later he was gagging and spitting into the snow, jumping off the rail and to his feet.  
'What!' Theon asked in alarm, Jon spat again and then groaned, laughing as he looked up to meet Theon's concerned expression. 'Troll bogeys. That's low Theon.'  
Theon looked at him for half a second and then burst into laughter, a deep, shaking belly laugh the likes of which he hadn't had in so long that he couldn't think back. Then Jon was laughing too, leaning against the post and holding his side. The sound set Theon off again and he squeezed tears out of the corner of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment - in nothing but the look on Jon's face as he'd eaten troll bogeys. 

Eventually they both calmed down enough that Theon slid off the fence post, staggering slightly as he landed. Jon reached out to steady him and Theon felt the warmth of his hand through the fabric of his coat. It matched the warmth that was glowing through him, the pure happiness that he felt at being here, with this man.  
Jon glanced across at him and Theon let another giggle escape his lips, it was echoed by one from Jon, and they made their way, still giggling, further into the town. There were other students wandering around all over the place, but no one paid them much mind, which made Theon feel even more relaxed. Jon seemed to appreciate it too. 

They passed Dervish and Bangs, and lingered for a moment in front of Gladrags Wizardwear, looking at the displays in the window. Theon didn't think he'd ever been inside, but then Jon turned to him with another of those mischievous grins that made his heart skip.  
'I have an idea,' he said, grabbing Theon by the arm and pulling him inside. The bell to the door tinkled behind them as they entered. The shop was lit only by the light coming in from the large front windows - apart from a small podium at the back of the room, flanked by mirrors.  
As they walked further in, Jon kept a hold of Theon's arm, his grip absent, as though he hadn't noticed he was still doing it. Theon tried to ignore the tingle of heat it sent through him. The shopkeeper came bustling up to them with a gracious smile, 'Welcome,' she said, inclining her head, 'I am Septa Mordane, what may I assist you young gentlemen with?'  
Jon glanced across at Theon with a raised eyebrow which nearly set off his giggling again. He bit his lip to stop himself.  
'We ah -' Jon cleared his throat in a way that suggested he was struggling with laughter too. 'We have a fancy occasion coming up. Very fancy. And we need something to wear.'  
'Something flamboyant,' Theon said, catching on.  
'Outrageous,' Jon agreed solemnly. 

'Ah,' Septa Mordane intoned, looking between them with a knowing expression. Then she leaned in and whispered in a voice that nevertheless carried to every corner of the empty shop. 'I know exactly the type of event you are referring to. We certainly cater for the _homosexual_ fashion trends.'  
Theon bit his lip harder, feeling his chest shake with a snort of laughter he didn't dare let loose. Jon's hand on his arm squeezed tighter, as though he was trying to hold himself together. He nodded once.  
'That,' he choked out. 'Indeed.'  
Septa Mordane nodded, as if pleased her assessment had been correct and bustled away, presumably to pick out clothes to perfectly fit their homosexual fashion needs. 

The moment her back was turned, Theon snorted a laugh that he turned into a coughing fit. Jon tapped him on the back, leaning in to snigger under his breath. He smelt like winter and pine trees and Theon looked up to meet his slate grey eyes for just a moment, catching his breath at the way they sparkled with his laughter.  
Then the Septa's voice dragged his attention away and Jon moved back a pace as they both composed themselves.  
'Down this way, gentlemen, I've found a few things for each of you. Very inspired by Muggle fashion this season - some interesting items we have in stock. I assume the event will be indoors at this time of year?'  
'Indeed,' Jon said gravely, as they moved closer to the back of the room, where the podium and mirrors stood. The shopkeeper waved her arm to demonstrate the first two outfits, hanging on the mirrors, ready to be worn. The one nearest to Jon was a tight green mesh shirt and black jeans that looked two sizes too small for him. Long red boots with zips up one side stood next to the outfit.  
On Theon's side was a deep purple crushed velvet top that had sweeping arms like a robe, but seemed to end at about nipple height. The bottoms were a pair of sparkly silver shorts, that looked like they wouldn't cover more than his arse cheeks. Sitting on the floor below them were ankle boots, in the same deep purple colour as the top. 

Theon looked across at Jon, mouth hanging open in shocked horror.  
_'No,'_ he mouthed silently.  
The look Jon gave him in return was full of laughter as he nodded his head, _'Yes'_.  
Theon gulped, eyeing the clothes and the Septa standing patiently near them, then stepped in closer to Jon, leaning in to whisper in his ear.  
'Are you seriously going to put that on?'  
Jon shrugged, stubbled chin grazing against Theon's cheek as he turned his head to reply, breath hot in his ear.  
'Why not. It'll be fun … well funny anyway.'  
Theon eyed the clothes again, trying not to respond to how close Jon was right now. 'What about what people will think?' he asked desperately.  
Jon's voice was a low growl in his ear. A husky sound that sent a shiver through him. 'Fuck what people will think! I'm sick of worrying about what people think of me. Besides, there's no one in here.' 

With that he stepped away, grabbed the clothes off the rack and swung the door to a nearby change room open. Theon eyed the door as it shut behind him, then looked back at the clothes, feeling a small grin tug at his lips. Whatever else happened … it would definitely be funny.  
He could hear Jon in the stall beside him, grunting as he pulled the jeans into place, 'These things are like a second skin,' he muttered to himself … Theon tried to ignore the picture that evoked. Then he realised he would see exactly what they looked like in a moment … and tried even harder to ignore it. The skimpy silver shorts gave him nowhere to hide … though - he rubbed his hand down over his arse - they certainly felt good on.  
When he was dressed and had heard Jon step out of his own change room and walk over to the mirrors, he took a deep breath, tugging the short top down so it covered as much of his chest as he could. Then he opened the door and stopped dead at the sight that met his eyes. The jeans and boots clung to Jon's legs and arse, cupping and defining it while looking like they were painted on. He was facing away from Theon, looking at himself in the mirror with a laughing grin, as he pulled the see-through sleeveless mesh shirt this way and that. He may as well not have been wearing it for all it covered. Theon's eyes raked over his broad shoulders, muscled back, narrowing down into his waist. 

Then Jon turned, glancing at him briefly before looking back, eyes widening as he took in the short, tight shorts, the high cut shirt that left his abs and half of his chest on clear display. His eyes seemed to linger there before Theon shifted anxiously under his gaze, sure some sort of comment was going to come about how scrawny and horrible he looked. An unwelcome voice sleazed its way into his head, _Reek, Reek, rhymes with freak_ , but Jon's slightly reddening cheeks and the husky tone to his voice as he spoke the next words dispelled it completely.  
'Ummm, wow. So you're still pretty in shape.' Then his face reddened further and he pulled his eyes away as he bit his lip. 'Ah - I mean -' he turned to the shopkeeper with a slightly anxious look on his face. 'Can I have my next one please? This isn't quite what I'm after.' 

Theon watched him disappear into the change rooms with a contemplative look on his face, and then he too accepted the next outfit. The next one for both of them seemed to involve a lot more coverage and whole birds full of feathers. Theon blew them out of his mouth as he eyed the headdress Jon was wearing. Jon looked him up and down with a grin and suddenly the tension was broken. They moved their way through increasingly outlandish costumes of velvet, silk, lycra and furs, having more and more fun as they competed for who could find the biggest hat, the most outrageous colour clashes. Septa Mordane seemed to be having fun as well, outdoing herself as she brought item after item out of storage. 

Theon was just tightening the straps on a leather ensemble when there was a shocked voice from behind them.  
'Jon?'  
Jon whirled around to look and then the voice asked, 'Theon?' The shock in the tone turning to chuckling laughter. 'Wow. I don't think I can un-see what I'm seeing right now.'  
Theon whipped his head around to see Robb standing behind them, one hand on his mouth, trying unsuccessfully hide a massive grin.  
'Robb,' Jon gasped '… what are you doing in here?'  
Robb bit his lip, composing himself for a moment. 'I wanted some new dress shirts … though I didn't realise this place stocked such a … range. Maybe I should branch out more in my tastes.' Laughter was all through his tone and Theon felt himself blushing red. He inched his way back towards the change rooms.  
Jon was blushing as well and Theon looked him up and down … maybe they had gotten a bit …. carried away. Jon was currently wearing a red sequined crop top and booty shorts with a feathered peacock tail. The ridiculousness of it had helped to kill the feeling that the sight of all that skin evoked several costumes ago. Theon looked back down at himself to realise that his current costume was leather straps over his shoulders down into a pair of leather shorts that were more underwear than shorts, and long leather gloves. 

He gulped, moving more quickly back to the change rooms and putting his normal clothes back on as soon as he could. Beside him he could hear Jon quickly doing the same. They exchanged a sheepish glance as they both existed the change rooms, but Theon could see underneath Jon's still-pink cheeks a look of sneaky enjoyment at the shared secrets they now held. He couldn't help but return the look. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself be so silly.  
'I'm not going to ask,' Robb said, hands raised as he looked between them. 'Have you two had lunch yet?'  
They both shook their heads and Jon said, 'Theon was going to take us to a place with chicken to die for.' He paused, looking at Theon, and then, when Theon gave him a small nod, said, 'You're welcome to join us.' 

Robb looked between them and then nodded as well, 'Only for lunch though, then I want to come back here and get some shirts.'  
Theon smiled, somehow happy that his day with Jon would continue to be just for them. As they turned to leave the shop, Theon thanking the owner with a slightly chagrined smile, Jon told them to go ahead and that he would catch up in a minute.  
Theon looked at him with a question when he came back out of the shop to join them in the now-slushy snow. 'I just wanted to give her a bit of money to say thanks for her time and for letting us trash her shop.'  
Theon felt his heart swell at the words - the more he heard about Jon or saw him do, the more he realised how compassionate he was . He was always thinking of the impact that his actions had on others. Sometimes - when he had to, he used that as a weapon. But mostly … from what Theon had seen, he liked to help people. 

They made their way through the less crowded streets - most people seemed to be in at lunch. On the edge of town, they came up to a building that looked like it had seen better days. A faded sign hung above the door with a picture of a snarling hound and the words _Dogs Head Inn_ printed across it. 

He paused just before he pushed the door open, turning to Jon and Robb, 'Don't stare at the Innkeeper okay? He really doesn't like it when people stare.'  
They looked at him in confusion, but both nodded, and they moved into the dimly lit interior. They approached the grimy bar and Theon pointed mutely at the dusty board hanging above bottles of alcohol.  
The board read:  
_Fried chicken_  
_Roast chicken_  
_Chicken wings_  
_Chicken and bread_

Robb snorted a laugh which cut off abruptly as the Innkeeper turned around. His face was twisted on one side with tight, red, painful-looking scars that ran over half his face and up over his head. His hair hung lank and greasy down to his shoulders, pulled haphazardly over his scars. His eyes were dark as he glared at the three of them.  
'You little shits don't look old enough to drink,' the man growled.  
'Since when has that ever stopped you serving students?' Theon asked, leaning forward to put his hands on the bar. Jon glanced sideways at him, as though surprised.  
The man barked out a humourless laugh. 'True. Gold's gold. Makes fuck all difference where its from.'  
'Good,' Theon said, reaching for his money pouch. 'We'll have a serve of fried chicken and two serves of chicken wings. And,' he cocked a questioning eyebrow at the other two, 'three mugs of Dogs Head Brew?' The other two exchanged glances and then shrugged simultaneously in agreement. 

The owner grunted in sour acknowledgement of the order and picked up three grimy mugs, giving them a wipe out with an equally grimy rag before he poured them each a drink. It was a gluggy brown colour, but Theon knew from experience that it tasted better than it looked. He placed a galleon down on the bar, waiting for his change, as the Innkeeper muttered to himself, banging away at the till with one meaty finger.  
Jon made a sound of protest, reaching for his own coins, but Theon just pointed at his pocket. 'Six galleons worth of sweets says I'm paying for lunch.'  
Jon subsided but then bristled when Robb's eyes snapped across to meet his, and the look on his face became delighted. 'You pigged out at the sweets shop, didn't you! You wait until I tell Arya. She'll ransack your room until she finds every last one.' 

Jon glared at Robb. 'I'm giving them to Theon. He can keep them in his room and when I want some I can get them from him.' Theon felt a fizzle of excitement run through him at the thought of Jon coming to his room to look for anything. He stopped himself from following the thought any further. He was being good. He could be good. He picked up his drink and turned away from the bar. 

They snagged a table in the corner and sat down, looking around at the odd assortment of guests.  
'Is that a banshee?' Robb whispered loudly, indicating a pale woman with a drawn, anguished looking face and bone white hair, who was staring at her hands as though they held the secrets of the universe.  
'Yeah,' Theon said. 'You get all sorts here.'  
He stopped speaking as their chicken arrived, a young witch with an over bright smile bringing it over.  
They all reached for a piece and then Robb and Jon moaned in unison as they bit in.  
Theon smirked with pride and tried to ignore what a sound like that did to him. For a few minutes they were all silent as they ate, then Robb spoke. 

'What happened to him?' he whispered, nodding towards the bar as they kept pulling pieces of chicken from the ever shrinking pile.  
Theon shrugged, speaking in a low voice and glancing around to make sure he wasn't being overheard. 'I don't know exactly, but the story is that his brother did it - when they were just kids. Magical explosion that no one got to in time to be able to reverse the damage. He's wanted now - not for that - but he turned out to be a Dark Wizard. Has done all sorts of horrible things - You've heard of the Mountain?'  
Jon snorted, 'Everyone's heard of the Mountain.'  
'Keep your voice down,' Theon hissed. 'That's his brother - the Hound hates him with a passion. One day he'll kill him. Everyone thinks it.' 

Robb made a noise of interest, then said - voice back at normal volume - 'You know I could tell you some things about Jon that would make him want to kill me.'  
Jon looked sharply across at him, though his gaze held no real malice, 'You shut your mouth Stark, or I'll go tell that Healer lady a few choice things about you.'  
Robb raised his hands, 'Okay, okay, no need to fight dirty … Just thought Theon might be interested in some of the more embarrassing things you did as a kid. For instance, one time Theon, he was caught in the library at home with a romance novel on his knees and his hand down his -'  
'Robb,' Jon growled, 'I'm warning you.'  
Theon didn't need to hear the rest of the story. His mental image was already so vivid that he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making a sound. 

Jon glanced across at him, cheeks pinking again at whatever he saw in Theon's face. Then he looked away. Robb glanced between the two of them, grabbing one last piece of chicken and finishing his drink in a few swallows.  
'That's my cue to leave. Thanks for lunch Theon. Bye Snowball.'  
Jon growled a curse, but Theon laughed, looking across at Jon, who was glaring after his brother.  
'Snowball?' he asked, still laughing.  
'No,' Jon said firmly. 'That's not a thing.' 

Theon finished off his chicken as well with a teasing grin as he stood up from the table. 'Sure thing, Snowball. The name will never cross my lips again.' Jon sighed in resignation as he stood as well.  
'Fucking Robb,' he muttered, as he followed Theon out into the bright afternoon light.  
'What do you want to do now, Snowball?' Theon asked, looking around.  
'Let's just walk for a bit,' Jon said, apparently having decided to ignore the nickname.  
They walked side by side through the snowy streets, arms brushing against each other as they did. Then Theon saw something in the front window of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and elbowed Jon to point it out. Right in the front of the shop, sitting at a rounded table with a white laced tablecloth and a bouquet of roses, were Gendry and Pod, each with a cup of tea and a piece of cake beside them untouched as they looked into each other's eyes, grinning as they spoke about something quickly and happily. Theon could see their hands linked together on the table top.  
He felt a pang at how sweet the image was - how easy things seemed to be for the two of them. 

Jon seemed to feel the same way, sighing beside him before turning to keep walking. They were silent for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Theon shook himself, determined to enjoy every moment of the time. They were heading out of town now, in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. There was hardly anyone around and Theon looked over at Jon, 'So what's the big finalé to "The Most Fun Day Ever", Snowball?'  
Jon seemed to come back to himself as well, looking across at Theon and then around himself at the pristine layer of snow either side of the path.  
'Snowball is it? Okay. You're on.' With that he bent down to scoop a pile of snow up with his bare hands, moulding into a rough ball. Theon backed away, hands up.  
'No. I'm sorry,' he laughed. 'I won't say it again. I'm -' his words were interrupted by the ball of snow that smashed against his leg, spraying up at him. 

Jon laughed and was already reaching down for another.  
'It's like that is it?' Theon said, backing further away and reaching for his own snow, packing it loosely. 'Never let it be said that an Ironborn backed down from a battle.' He said, yelping in surprise when Jon's next missile hit him in the back. 'No fair,' he called, piffing his own in retaliation and hitting Jon in the shoulder. 'You fight dirty!'  
'All's fair in love and war,' Jon returned, scooping snow in each hand and flinging both at Theon at once. One went wide and the other hit him in the chest, spraying up into his face.  
'Oh, it's on, Snowball,' he said, scooping and throwing snow as fast and as hard as he could. 

They both ducked and ran and threw in mad abandon, clumps of snow flying through the air, more often missing than not as they dove out of the way of each other, both laughing and shouting with the fun of it.  
Theon was starting to get puffed. Jon was in much better condition than he was, but he didn't want to concede defeat. He looked around himself, spying an old stone wall beginning not far ahead and made a quick decision, sprinting away to jump over the wall and hunch down on the other side. He sat as still as he could, trying to calm his rasping breathing, and listened for Jon's approach. The other man threw a few snowballs over the top, but he didn't respond. He heard Jon's footsteps come closer, crunching in the snow, and then the words, a hint of concern in them.  
'Theon? Are you okay?'  
He bit his lip and kept silent as Jon's footsteps came closer again. He was almost at the wall now …. One more minute and -  
Theon leapt up, grabbing the shoulders of Jon's heavy jumper and pulling him forward, intending to pull him down into snow and then cover him in it, but Jon's reflexes were quicker and he used the wall to push himself forward, making Theon stumble backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling into the soft blanket of snow. Jon came down on top of him, Theon still gripping at his jumper. 

For a moment they were both dazed from the fall, and then all at once they both seemed to become aware of the position they were in. Theon was lying on his back and Jon's whole body was laid out against his, one leg between his and arms bracketed to either side. His body was a heavy warmth and Theon could feel that warmth all along his own. His hair was wet with snow and his face was flushed from the exertion and the cold, his eyes shining with happiness.  
Theon suddenly remembered how Jon had looked when they had shared the broomstick ride that day so long ago. It was the first time he'd seen pure joy on Jon's face. He had been flushed and windblown then too, lips red and begging to be kissed. At that thought, Theon's eyes dropped unconsciously to Jon's mouth and the other man's tongue licked quickly over his lips, as though not even realising he was doing so. 

He hadn't shifted his weight and Theon felt himself becoming more and more aware of the other man's body against his - of the feel of him, the smell of him. His own hands came up, his bad one moving to Jon's neck, his good one cupping his face lightly.  
Their eyes met and suddenly Jon's were darker somehow, the look in them reminding him of the look he'd had the week before - at the party. The look right before he'd kissed Theon. With that look, Theon realised that when they had talked the other day, Jon had never answered his question about why he had kissed him in the first place. 

His eyes flicked back to the other man's mouth again, his fingers tightening their grip slightly as Jon's eyes drifted closed and he bent his head down - 

'Well isn't this a pretty picture?' came a sneering, horribly familiar voice. It broke Theon out of his daze immediately, jolting adrenaline through him. Jon seemed to have a similar reaction, pushing straight to his feet and standing in front of Theon protectively. Theon struggled up to see Bolton, leaning on the fence, looking down at them. A few paces behind him were some of his usual band.  
'Reek whoring himself out for a change. I suppose it's better to fuck him outside. Avoids the _smell_.' There was jeering laughter from the people behind him and Theon flushed in anger and shame ducking his head to avoid their looks.  
Jon's arm moved inside his shirt, but Bolton brought him up short with a quick, 'Tsk, Tsk.' He looked down at his own wand, held loosely in his hand, and then glance behind himself at Locke, Myranda and Joffrey who all had their hands inside their robes.  
'Don't start something you can't finish, Snow. And if you have any dignity …' he eyed Theon with distaste, 'Don't start anything with that one at all. He's soiled goods.' 

Jon growled, not removing his hand from his shirt. The sound was more animal than human, and Theon could see his tattoos bristling with agitation.  
'If you don't back the fuck up. Right now. I'm going to tear you and your little friends to pieces,' Jon said, through gritted teeth.  
Bolton raised his hands in a placating gesture, 'There, there, good dog. Calm down now,' he said in a mocking tone.  
Jon reigned in the growl that was still rumbling in his chest.  
'That's a boy,' Bolton said, in a bright, happy voice. 'Now you just need to learn not to play with my toys and I'm sure we can be friends.' 

Jon snarled again and ripped his wand from his jumper. Theon jumped forward, pulling Jon's arm down as he growled out a curse. It went wide and Bolton's look went from tolerant to angry.  
'Keep your dog under control, Reek. Or I'll have to muzzle him.' Theon shivered at the look on his face, his joy from the day completely gone as he watched Bolton turn and walk away.  
Jon shook off his arm and stood, silently, body radiating with anger as he watched them leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody Bolton, always ruining everything.
> 
> Hey @lesbianmermaid, I managed to get the Hound in there!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as squirrel-and-me if you want to drop by and say hi :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I meant to get this out last weekend but I have a heap going on at the moment and life got in the way!
> 
>  
> 
> This Ch is for a very good friend who is having a tough time with a few things lately. I hope it brightens your day ;) I certainly made you wait long enough for it haha

Jon was quiet on their walk back to the castle. Wary. Theon ached for the fun and laughter that the day had held - the lightness in Jon's face and the pleasure in his actions. He felt, somehow, that this was his fault - that he'd ruined things. It wouldn't be the first time. He was always ruining things. If only he had never got involved with Bolton. If only he had never believed his lies. If only he had thought being a Gryffindor was good enough.

He felt the guilt and the sadness churn through him. Jon's continued silence unnerved him. Apart from asking if Theon was okay after Bolton had left, he hasn't said anything. Theon snuck a glance across at him as they strode down the snow covered path side-by-side. Jon's face was dark. Angry. Theon couldn't help the thought - again - that Jon would be better off without him in his life … Without thinking that he had some responsibility to protect Theon - to save him.

He ran his good hand anxiously over his gloved bad one - feeling the missing spaces. The phantom slice of pain and the ache of missing fingers that still sometimes seem so real.  
'I'm sorry,' he muttered in a low voice. It took Jon a second to register the words, but when he did he stopped abruptly, reaching out to pull Theon to a halt as well.  
'Huh?' He asked, face creased in confusion.  
'I'm sorry,' Theon said again, a little louder this time. Jon's expression deepened into a frown.  
'What do you have to be sorry for?' He asked. The markings around his eyes swirled into a shape that made Theon think of a wolf's ears pricked forward in curiosity.  
Theon shrugged, uncomfortable under his regard, 'I'm sorry for Bolton. It's my fault that you have to have anything to do with him, I mean. You should -'  
'Stop it!' Jon's voice cut across Theon's. The curiosity was gone from his face. There was a trace of anger now, which he seemed to be trying to hold back. Mostly his expression was a stern sort of pleading that Theon couldn't help but respond to.  
'Stop it,' he said more gently. 'Theon, this is _not_ your fault. Bolton,' his lip curled with distaste at the name, 'is a psycho. Nothing you did made you deserve what happened to you. And nothing he does now is your fault. He's making his own choices about how to act and what to do - you're not making those choices for him. _This is not your fault_ ,' he repeated, voice strong and grey eyes searching Theon's anxiously, as though wanting to be certain that Theon was listening.

Theon heard what he said, but the words didn't make sense. If it wasn't for Bolton's interest in Theon, he wouldn't have paid any attention to Jon. And now that interest - and Theon's inability to stay away from Jon when he had been told to - was going to put Jon in danger.  
'But it _is_. I mean, yeah, things are out of control now. I know that. But originally …' He voice dropped and shame entered it. He looked at his hands, rubbing the space where his fingers should be again and again. 'Originally,' he continued in a whisper. 'I went to him. I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be a part of his group - the elite. I - I was horrible. I deserved what he did -.  
'Jesus - Theon,' Jon looked at him with eyes full of sadness and concern. 'You did _not_ deserve what he did to you. Maybe you were a little shit. Maybe you wanted a little more that what you had in life. So what. Those things weren't good, sure. Did you deserve to be taken down a few pegs?' he shrugged, 'Probably. But that is _not_ what happened to you. I know you haven't told me everything -' he paused at the panicked look on Theon's face, '… And you don't have to if you don't want to,' he reassured. Then he took a deep breath and continued, eyes pleading with Theon to listen to him, to believe him.  
'Theon, what he did to you - what he's still doing to you - is beyond wrong. It's criminal. It's sadistic and fucked up. _No one_ deserves to have that done to them - no matter what they've done in the past.'  
He searched Theon's eyes, not seeming satisfied by what he saw that. 'Whatever he's told you Theon - whatever he's made you believe - it's _wrong_. You're a good person. You're strong, and kind and fun. I want to see more of that Theon. Of who you used to be before he put whatever fucked up shit in your head that makes you feel like any of this is your fault.'

Theon concentrated on Jon's words, over the pounding of his heart and the anxiety churning through his gut. A dirty voice slithered through his mind. _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with weak._ He pushed it away. He wasn't Reek. Bolton was a lying bastard. He couldn't be strong, couldn't he? Jon had said it. Asha had said it. Davos and Madame Maegyr and Tyrion had said it … Maybe he could be strong. But that wouldn't protect him - wouldn't protect Jon.  
'He's dangerous,' Theon whispered, glancing up to meet Jon's eyes and then looking away again. 'You don't understand what he's like. You shouldn't make him angry. It's not safe.'

'I'm dangerous too, Theon,' Jon said, teeth bared unconsciously. 'I am _not_ going to let him hurt you again.' He stepped closer and his hands came up to grip Theon's shoulders as he stared earnestly into his eyes. 'I can't deal with the thought of him hurting you again.' The last words were said with an anguished tone that matched the look that had come into Jon's face. Theon couldn't hold his eyes. There was too much in his gaze. Too much unsaid. Too much possibility. He dropped his gaze again and nodded. Jon sighed, seeming to recognize that it was more of an end to the conversation than an agreement. He squeezed Theon's arms lightly and then dropped his hands.  
'Let's get back to the Castle,' he said in a soft voice. 'It's getting dark. Do you want dinner?'  
Theon shook his head. He wasn't hungry any more.

At the door to the Gryffindor common room, Jon paused, looking uncomfortable as Theon gave the password and the portrait swung open. He reached out a hand, taking Theon's bare one in his. Theon felt a tingle of warmth at the contact.  
'Are you going to be okay?' He asked quietly.  
Theon took a deep breath and nodded, firmer this time, meeting Jon's concerned gaze. 'Thanks for an amazing day,' he said softly, letting some of the warmth from the earlier part of the day creep back into his face - his voice.  
Jon smiled slightly, his hand squeezing Theon's lightly, 'Told you I could be fun,' he teased gently.  
Theon smiled, he had a feeling it was a bit lopsided, but it was the best he had right now, 'That was definitely the most fun day I've ever had,' he agreed.  
Jon's smiled deepened, 'Next time will be better,' he promised.  
Theon felt warmth flow through him at the promise in the words, the mention of a future. He felt it warring with the sense of hopelessness and helplessness that was flooded through him. It didn't banish it, but it gave him something to hold on to - to keep his head above water.

\-----

The end of term was fast approaching and there was a mad frenzy as all their teachers tried to tie off subjects and set study topics for the Christmas break in two weeks. Theon and Jon didn't have to do exams as Champions, but neither wanted to fall behind and be disadvantaged for their final year. In between rushing from one class to the next, churning out essay after essay and practicing spell after spell, Theon had barely had time to eat and sleep, let alone try and make sense of anything that had happened on his day with Jon. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Jon seemed to be watching him all the time now. Whenever Theon glanced across, the other man's eyes were on him, or he was just looking away with exaggerated concentration on his face, like he had been engrossed in his work the whole time. It was disconcerting, but something in it was also thrilling. He _knew_ there was more to it than just Jon being concerned for his safety, and what more there could be tingled through him every time he thought of it.

Some nights when he fell into bed at the end of an exhausting day, he dreamt of Jon. He dreamt of those looks, those touches and what would happen if they hadn't been stopped. If things had gone further in the Room of Requirement … Or that other day in the snow. He woke up sticky and frustrated, an ache of longing in him for the real thing. He thought Jon might be into him. There was too much staring him in the face for there to be any other conclusion. But what did that _mean_. Did Jon want to hook up? If he did, why hadn't he made a move? It wasn't like he didn't have experience with that sort of thing.  
Did Jon want more? A part of him still couldn't imagine that more could exist for him with a man like Jon Snow. 

Theon agonized, flipping back and forth for a week, trying to figure out how he felt - what he wanted. He wanted Jon. That much was for sure. Every casual touch set him on fire in a way he had never felt with anyone before. But it was more than that … so much more. He loved putting that little smile on Jon's face that made his eyes crinkle in happiness. He loved teasing him about being a star flyer, but not understanding the sixth principle of magical propulsion - 'The broom stays in the air Theon - it's irrelevant whether I know _why_ it does'. He loved watching the other man get more and more confident as they studied and practiced together, seeming to grow into a part of his life that had not felt right for him for a long time … Sometimes he watched Jon too. Watched him and marveled at how such an intense, strong, compassionate man couldn't see how good he truly was. But Theon couldn't tell him that. Couldn't ask for something more. Couldn't risk being taken for one of those other leeches who just wanted a piece of the famous Jon Snow.

He thought maybe Jon wanted to take things further, but he never provided more than intense looks and innocent brushes against Theon that made Jon's eyes darken and his tattoos swirl. Theon knew Robb and Arya and Gendry and half the other people around them could see that something was going on. The eye rolls and muttered comments when they were together indicated it … but Jon didn't act. Surely if he wanted Theon … he would have done something about it?

 

\-----

There were three more days of class left until the holiday break and Theon had a two foot essay on the Identification of and Protection Against Malicious Water Spirits that he'd barely started and which had to be handed in during Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day. On top of that he had to do sixteen inches on the Truth Revealing Properties of Veritaserum as Compared to Thoughts Through a Pensive which was a weird cross between Potions and who knew what. He had a feeling Qyburn was just trying to prove a point that Potions were always the best option. His last task would be to summarize the Fifteen Ways Snakeroot Can be Cultivated and the Differing Benefits of Each … he knew of two so wasn't quite sure how successful his Herbology essay was going to be.

He walked side by side with Jon to the Library after dinner, the other man carrying a bag of books slung over his shoulder that was just as big as the pile Theon carried in his arms. Theon smiled wryly as they walked through the door together. Despite spending most of his time in the Library nowadays, Jon still wanted to pretend he was too cool for all of this.  
His smile faded as they entered the crowded Library. There were students crammed into every study table and nook, a look of anxiety, bordering on sick panic reflected in most faces he could see. Hardly anyone even glanced up at them as they made their way to their normal table at the back of the Library. Both of them stopped dead when they saw that it, too, was occupied by a group of stressed looking fourth years surrounded by piles of books bigger than they were.  
Theon briefly considered telling them to beat it, but couldn't bring himself to be so horrid to people who were obviously drowning in work just as much as him and Jon were.

He turned to the man at his side, eyebrows raised, 'What now?' he asked with a sigh, shifting the books in his arms. Jon looked around, as though reconfirming that there was definitely no where they could sit. Then he shrugged and looked away for a moment, 'We could study on the ship?' he suggested quietly, glancing across at Theon as though not sure what he would think of the idea. 'The others will probably be cluttering up the galley but my - my room would be quiet?'  
Theon felt a jolt in his chest at the suggestion - at the thought that he might get to see Jon's room … get to be alone with Jon in his room.  
He looked at Jon, at the slight pinking of his cheeks and at the way the other man couldn't quite meet his eyes.  
'Yeah,' he said, voice coming out a little raspier than he'd meant it to. 'Yeah that would be cool.'  
Jon nodded, hefting his bag, as though giving himself something to do with his hands. 'Okay. Cool,' he echoed, cheeks getting redder as he said it.

They left the castle quickly, walking down to the Lake shore. Theon didn't want things to get awkward so he started brainstorming with Jon what he thought the ways of cultivating Snakeroot were. Jon knew one of the ones he did, as well as another three … so that gave them five out of fifteen … which wasn't going to be a pass mark. Theon sighed and wondered if his _1001 Magical Plants and Their Properties_ text was going to be more enlightening.  
When they got to the water's edge, Jon drew his wand out and muttered _Accio boat_ , bringing the small row boat skimming across the water towards him. When they climbed in, he insisted on rowing and Theon tried not to watch the way his arms and shoulders bunched and moved. He was wearing a thin black sweater as his only concession to the cold and the shape of his body was still very easy to see. Theon tried not to make it too obvious that he was picturing climbing into Jon's lap, straddling him and running his hands down the other man's arms as he ground down onto him.

The soft thump as they hit the side of the ship startled him out of his thoughts and he jerked his eyes up to see Jon watching him again, his gaze intense and his tattoos swirling in languid, sensuous loops. Jon looked like he was about to say something, but he just bit his lip, turning to the rope ladder dangling down the side of the huge vessel.  
'I won't bother asking you if you need a hand,' he said, as he began to climb. 'I still remember exactly what you did last time you were here. Give me a sec to get to the top and you can float your books up to me though.'  
Theon felt his heart beat a little faster as he cast his mind back to that day - it felt like a lifetime ago - climbing the lines like he'd never left a ship and then soaring through the air on his way back to the deck. There was just something about Jon Snow that made him remember who he used to be - and to imagine he could be again.

He whispered a quick _Wingardium Leviosa_ and sped up the rope ladder, beating his books to the top. He panted slightly but the eye roll and the grin Jon gave him as he was waiting to scoop them out of the air was worth it. They didn't see anyone on deck and Jon took him through a door behind the main mast which led down some narrow steps and into a wooden corridor with a number of doors coming off it.  
'In here,' he said, pushing the door open and standing aside. Theon walked in, looking around himself in interest. Jon clearly hadn't been expecting company. There was a set of clothes draped over the edge of his bed and a few on the floor in a pile at the foot of the bed. His small writing desk was cluttered with half written essays and open books. But overall the space was tidy and looked well ordered. He had a small porthole above the single bed in the corner and some shelves above the bed. Theon put his books down on the desk in a slightly clear spot and walked over to the shelves, spotting a gleam of gold.

He looked at Jon's golden dragon's egg and with a jolt he realised that he hadn't given a second thought to his own egg since he'd tucked it into his chest after the first Challenge.  
'Have you opened it?' He asked, indicating the golden sphere with his chin. Jon came in and closed the door behind himself, then looked across and nodded, then grimaced, 'Have you figured out how to make yours work?' the other man asked.

Theon looked at him blankly, face heating slightly. 'I - ah - haven't actually opened mine,' he admitted, shame faced.  
Jon grunted, eyeing the egg with a frown. 'Don't know if the fact that I have makes much of a difference.'  
'What do you mean?' Theon asked, curious now and feeling like he really should be doing something about figuring out his clue. Jon grimaced again and drew his wand, muttered a quick silencing charm and then crossed the room to pick the egg up, pausing for a moment with his hand on the catch.  
'You might want to cover your ears,' he said to Theon, as he took a deep breath and twisted the top. The egg fell open like flower petals unfurling and a beautiful golden light issued from it. But that wasn't what drew Theon's attention. The moment the egg opened, the most horrifying, ear splitting shriek he had ever heard issued from it. He clapped his hands to his ears and looked wide-eyed and Jon, who snapped the egg shut again, closing the catch and shutting off the hideous noise.

'Told you,' he said when the silence was restored. 'I have no idea what the clue is or how we're supposed to understand it.' Theon looked unhappily at the egg as Jon replaced it on the shelf. Of course it wouldn't be bloody straight forward. Nothing every bloody was.  
Then his eye was caught by movement down beside Jon's bed, in the corner that was almost obscured by his pillow. He leaned in to get a closer look at the same time that Jon's eyes widened and he moved forward, sitting on the bed and pushing the pillow further into the corner in a move that looked almost casual but was betrayed by the slightly panicked glance that he shot at Theon. 

Theon felt heat flood through him but he looked away, turning to the desk with a casual, 'Do you mind if I move some of this stuff?' He was glad his voice didn't betray the way his heart was pounding a hundred miles and hour and the confused happiness he felt bubbling up in him. He'd only seen half of the moving image spellotaped to the wall of the cabin before Jon had pushed the pillow in front of it … but he knew exactly what it was. It was a picture from the _Daily Prophet_. It was a picture from the first Challenge … a shot of him and Jon. It was Jon leaning in to hug Theon. Theon burying his face in Jon's neck as he pulled him closer, before the both of them sprung apart and the scene repeated. He tried not to focus on why Jon had that stuck to his wall … beside his bed. He tried not to imagine Jon lying in bed, looking across at a picture of the two of them together … he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face and he busied himself moving books and parchment with his back to Jon.

'Yeah, sure, move whatever you need', came a somewhat strangled voice from behind him, then he heard rustling of pages and books being chucked on top of each other as Jon presumably made himself comfortable on his bed. Theon sat at the desk after a few moments, spreading his own things out. The desk was on the same wall as the foot of the bed and Jon had laid himself out so that his head was down the same end as Theon. Theon glanced sideways across at him, and wished he hadn't. Jon was lying on his side, resting his head on one hand as he flipped the pages on the book in front of him. He'd taken his sweater off and was wearing a tight black t-shirt that hugged his arms in a way that made Theon force himself not to stare. He'd kicked his boots off too, and the sight of Jon in his socks relaxing in his room _did things_ to Theon. He looked back at his books, dipping his quill and scrawling the heading of the next section of his Water Spirits essay across the page - _Common Characteristics_. Then he glanced across at Jon again. The other man was looking down at the book in front of him with the sort of fierce concentration Theon was coming to recognize as meaning Jon had just been looking at him a moment ago and didn’t want him to know.

He felt heat tingle through him again and his heart skipped. He forced himself to look back at the book in front of him and start summarizing the information. After a few minutes of nothing but the scratching of his quill, he heard a huffed sigh from Jon and glanced across to see that the other man was still reading the same page he had been five minutes ago. He was biting his lip in a way that made Theon ache to kiss him, to taste Jon's mouth for himself. He looked away again. If Jon wanted him, he would do something about it. _Surely_ he would. He tried to focus on his essay, scratching down a few more lines, unsure whether they actually captured what he was trying to say. Thoughts kept distracting him - Jon, laid out on his bed … how close Theon was to him … how easy it would be to climb on top of him … kiss his way into the other man's mouth.

He closed his eyes briefly against the longing that swept through him, gripping his quill tighter in his hand … almost bending it before he forced himself to relax. He opened his eyes and looked across at Jon. The other man was watching him, eyes heavy lidded and hot. Jon's tongue swept out over his lips in an unconscious move. Theon met his gaze and Jon held his eyes for a moment before he blushed and looked away. The stab of want that shot through Theon surprised him in its intensity. He could almost feel the tension crackle through the air between them. He could feel the blood pounding through his body … feel himself beginning to get hard as the heat rushing through him pooled in his groin. He was the one to bite his lip now and he took a deep, shaky breath, looking back down at his work. He read the same paragraph five times before Jon's voice interrupted him.

'Hey, um … what do you think this means?' Jon asked, his voice a husky murmur that had Theon fighting a shiver. He glanced across to see Jon indicating the page in front of him but making no move to tilt the book towards Theon or get up and go over to him. The other man wouldn't quite meet his eyes. The anticipation and longing he'd been feeling for so long peaked at what he thought Jon was really asking him. He kept his face neutral as he pushed the chair back and took the two small steps over to the bed. He sat down beside Jon on the mattress, almost but not quite touching him, eyes focused down on the page in front of Jon. The other man pushed himself up onto one arm, moving closer to Theon as he did so. Theon could feel Jon's heat all along his body, could smell the fresh, clean scent of him. He drew in another deep, shaky breath and forced himself not to react - not to make a move unless Jon did first.

'I - ah - was interpreting it as crushing the stem and crushing the - ah - the leaves is two separate preparations?' Jon’s voice was even huskier now, a low rumble of sound that Theon _did_ shiver lightly at. Theon wondered what Jon would sound like with Theon's mouth wrapped around his cock. He suddenly realized the silencing charm was still on the room and the thought sent a flood of heat through him that made him bite hard into his lip. Jon turned his head and Theon could feel the heat of his breath against his cheek as he said, 'What do you think?' in a tone that made the question so much more than it seemed.

He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, trying to pull himself together, then he turned as well, so that he was looking Jon directly in the eyes, his face just centimeters from the other man's. Jon's eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. Want was written all over his face. Theon couldn't hold himself back any more. He wanted this. _Needed it_. Jon did too.  
'I think yes,' he whispered. 'Definitely.'  
Jon's eyes widened for a second and he drew in a sharp breath, then he brought his other hand up, keeping eye contact with Theon as he threaded his fingers softly - slowly - through the hair at the nape of his neck, thumb stroking lightly at his cheek. His touch felt like fire - Theon could feel it searing through him. His heart was beating out of control in his chest and he brought his hand up too - his bad hand, but that didn’t seem to matter - to grip lightly at Jon's shoulder as the other man leaned in, eyes drifting closed.

Their lips touched, the lightest of brushes and then a loud bang startled them both, jolting them apart as they both jerked around to look at the source of the sound.  
'Hey J, can I borrow your Firebolt this weekend? I want to go for a -' There was a pause Arya took in the scene in front of her - at Theon springing back off the bed and Jon sitting up straight, bringing his knees up to his chest. 'Oh - fuck - Gen's going to kill me. He had money riding on before Christmas and now I've fucked it up. Sorry. As you were!' With that she gave them both an apologetic look that somehow still managed to be a smirk, and skipped quickly out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.  
A second later she opened it again, poking her head through, 'J, I would think you'd know by now to lock your door when you're going to be getting your junk out. It's a simple charm … I can show it to you if you don’t -'  
She stopped abruptly as Jon threw a pillow at the door yelling, 'Arya, get out!'  
The door shut again and they could hear her laughter echoing down the corridor as she moved away.

Theon stood by the desk, chest heaving and heart pounding, trying desperately to will his body to calm down, leaning against the chair so that Jon wouldn't be able to see how rock hard he was. He glanced across at Jon. His face was flushed and his eyes were hot and needy. Slowly, not taking his eyes off Theon, Jon reached for the shelf at the head of his bed, his shirt riding up to reveal rock hard abs. Theon wanted to look but his gaze was captured by Jon's as the other man scooped his wand up and pointed it at the door. He hesitated for half a second, a hint of uncertainty in his face, but then he took a deep breath and whispered the word, _Colloportus_. 

Theon was moving before he even heard the door lock. In a second he was kneeling on the bed in front of Jon and the other man's hands came up to tangle in his hair as they crushed their mouths together. It was hot and wet and hungry and it set Theon on fire. Every part of his body was aware of the feel of Jon against him - the sparks where their bodies touched. Theon pushed against Jon, hands moving to his hips to pull him closer as they knelt in front of each other. Theon could feel how hard Jon was - could feel the hot length of him rubbing against Theon's own cock with delicious friction. He gasped at the sensation and Jon moaned as Theon's hands slipped under the edge of his shirt, touching bare skin. Jon's hands tightened in Theon's hair, pulling him closer, making the kiss deeper, harder, their tongues moving together as each tasted the other in urgent, gasping movements. They kissed and licked and bit against each other, hands and mouths moving over each other as if they couldn’t get enough, as if they both wanted everything all at once. Both were panting and moaning and gasping sounds that were half formed words - neither wanting to break from the kiss for more than a moment. 

Theon was lost in Jon - the feel of him, the taste of him, the smell of him. He dragged one hand down to Jon's cock, cupping him and rubbing against him. Jon arched into the movement with a groan of pleasure, his mouth breaking off to kiss down Theon's jaw and to his neck. Theon hissed at the feeling of the other man's teeth scraping against his skin and suddenly he wanted more - needed more. He brought hands up, fumbling with the ties at the front of Jon's pants. He needed his hands on the other man.

Jon stiffened suddenly, his body swaying back slightly and his hands coming down to Theon's wrists, capturing Theon's hands in his and pulling them gently away from his pants. Theon looked up, dazed from the moment he was caught up in, not understanding why Jon had stopped him. The other man looked _gorgeous_. His mouth - already beautiful - was red from the kisses they'd shared and he was _wrecked_. He looked like he'd just been fucked - everything about him screamed debauchery and sex … but there was something in his look, something that pulled Theon up short, that took the edge off the need that was screaming through him.

Jon looked … scared. The other man seemed to sense Theon's sudden concern because he dropped his gaze, a flush coming up to heat his cheeks as he mumbled, 'I've wanted to do that for a really long time.'  
Theon felt warmth rush through him at the words as he struggled to get his breath … struggled to wait - not to put his hands on Jon again and push him back onto the bed … not to climb on top of him and grind down onto him.  
'So have I,' he said, feeling freedom in being able to say it out loud at last.  
Jon glanced up, a small, pleased smile coming onto his face at the words, then he grimaced, looking uncertain again, looking away as though worried about what Theon would think of his next words.  
'Do you …' he paused to take a breath, 'Do you mind if - can we go slow?'  
Theon stared at him - mouth dropping open in surprise. The last thing he'd expected to hear from the man who'd fucked Margaery and Loras and Renly in every position possible - from all accounts - was that he wanted to go _slow_. He frowned, shifting uncomfortably, trying to get himself under control. But then he cleared his expression quickly when Jon looked up at him, his eyes looking more vulnerable than Theon had ever seen them.

He knew suddenly that he could move like a glacier for this man - even if he didn't understand why.  
'Of course,' he whispered, a small smile coming back to his face as he licked his lips and tasted Jon.  
Jon's face lit up in a happy smile and he leaned forward again, brushing his mouth lightly against Theon's. It was a gentle kiss. A sweet kiss. Theon felt the warmth of it wrapping itself around his heart.  
'Thank you,' Jon whispered against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE KISSSSSSSSS!
> 
> Haha I hope it met expectations?
> 
> Love to know your thoughts as always!!!!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, OMG I've broken 4000+ hits. That's double what any other fic I've written has reached! Thank you all so much for reading :D
> 
> Second, Sorry for such a long time between posts. I'm trying my hardest ... but life.
> 
> Third, I haven't written proper smut in sooooo long. Smut with two people would be better but have a little bit of solo smut to counter the sweetness of this ch :p

In bed that night, Theon replayed the scene again and again in his mind. He remembered the feel of Jon's mouth on his - lips soft at first, then harder, more insistent. He shivered slightly at the memory as he lay in bed, the room dim and his curtains drawn. It still didn't feel completely real - that Jon wanted him - wanted Theon as bad as he had wanted Jon for so long now. He closed his eyes so he could better picture the memory of Jon's body pulled tight against his - the feeling of him as Theon had reached down to cup his hot length. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought and he brought his fingers up to his mouth, letting them graze lightly over his lips as he remembered the taste of Jon - the heat of his mouth. The memory of Jon's stubble against his skin, the desperate need as their tongues entwined had him biting lightly at his fingers, sucking one and then two into his mouth as he pictured kissing his way down Jon's body, licking and sucking up his length, drawing filthy, needy noises from him.

In the back of his mind the fact that Jon wanted to go slow - had wanted to do nothing more than kiss and kiss again over the few hours they'd spent together - had him frowning, trying to puzzle out the reasons why. But he pushed that away, focusing on what he'd had, on the incredible feeling of Jon's body against his. It had been so long since someone had made him feel good - since his pleasure in someone's body had not been mixed with pain or shame.

He trailed his fingers down his chin and across his bare chest, hissing lightly as he traced wet fingers over one hard nipple, squeezing it between his fingers. He imagined it was Jon's hand on him … Jon lying beside him in bed … Teasing him, stroking him, knowing what he wanted. His hand moved across to the other nipple, pinching and rolling it lightly between his fingers. He imagined burying his hands in Jon's dark curls as the other man bent his head to lick and suck at the sensitive skin. He let out a low moan at the thought eyes still closed. There was the answering rumble of a snore from one bed over. He jerked his eyes open and reached up, under his pillow, for his wand. He whispered _Muffliato_ and then paused, pressing his palm against his now-straining cock through his cotton boxers. He wanted - Jon had made him think of … Made him remember … Things he'd used to enjoy … Used to want …

He whispered a quick 'fuck it,' and kicked his boxers off, still holding his wand in one hand and giving himself two quick strokes with the other. It was his bad hand and he couldn't get the grip right, but the feeling of skin against his aching cock had him hissing again. He needed a release from the delicious, drawn out tension of the evening. He wanted more than to rub himself off though …. He paused a moment longer, hand drifting lower to rub softly over his balls before slipping between his legs. He propped one knee up to give himself the right angle and let his fingers drift lower, brushing lightly over his arse. He felt a tingle run over him at the brief contact, and he brushed lightly again, closing his eyes at the sensation. He pushed lightly, the strength in his remaining fingers just enough to give him the resistance - the very edge of what he wanted. Was he ready for this again? Did he want it again?

For a moment dark, hateful eyes flashed into his vision, but before he'd had a chance to tense, to recoil, a pair of hot, grey eyes replaced them and he was picturing Jon - Jon above him, kissing him slowly and softly - Jon between his legs, pushing into him, hard and hot and oh so good. He bit his lip at the image, fingers brushing over himself again, more insistently this time. He wanted this - with Jon he wanted again.

He flicked the wand, murmuring and then the pot of salve came flying silently into his hand. He shoved his wand back under the pillow and twisted it open, slicking up two fingers on his good hand, before reaching down behind himself, rolling on to one hip. He wrapped his bad hand loosely around his cock, just holding and rubbing lightly, and traced his slicked up fingers over his hole, fighting the moan that even this light touch brought. He traced back and forth, pushing lightly against himself, teasing and stroking and working himself up to the idea. As he did so, he imagined Jon lying behind him, breath hot on his neck, one arm thrown over him, hand rubbing him softly up and down. With the other hand, Jon would tease him, push the tip of one finger inside him slowly, ask him if he wanted it … If he wanted more …

He panted and felt his cock jump as he pushed one finger inside and then two. The stretch and the feeling of slickness were not new to him … But it had been _so long_. He pushed his hips forward, fucking lightly into his hand and then backwards, sending his own fingers deeper inside himself. He moved with his eyes closed, blankets wrapped around him, the warmth of the bed easy to replace with the imagined warmth of Jon. He crooked his fingers, the angle awkward and let out a harsh moan of pleasure as he rubbed the right spot. He pushed forward again, smearing his pre come all over his hand and sheets, before tilting his hips back and sending that jolt of pleasure sparking through him again. He imagined Jon murmuring in his ear, telling him how good he felt, how much he wanted him and a whimper escaped his lips. He squeezed his eyes tighter, biting into his lip as he moved faster, the friction and pleasure rising.

He wanted Jon so badly - wanted to be fucked by him - wanted to fuck him - wanted to hold him - wanted to love him - be loved by him.  
Those thoughts swirled around in his mind as his ragged breathing panted in the quiet night. He moved faster, hands and hips working to bring him closer and closer to the edge. He imagined Jon behind him - whispering his name, the sound throaty and desperate. He imagined turning his head to capture the other man's mouth in a filthy, messy kiss and it was this thought - the memory of that feeling - that sent him over the edge. He could feel the tightness clench around his fingers as he came with a panted grunt of pleasure. Hot stickiness spilled over his hand as he felt his orgasm rush through him, the waves of it shuddering through his body.

When he was done - when his heart had finished pounding and his breathing had returned to normal - he stretched up slowly, languidly, for his wand and whispered a quick cleaning spell before he dissolved the silencing one. Then he tucked it back away, eyelids heavy, a smile still drifting across his face. His last thought before he fell into the dark embrace of sleep was to wonder what it would feel like to fall asleep in Jon's arms.

\------

The next morning, Jon was waiting for him when he stepped out of the Gryffindor portrait hole. Theon caught his breath at the sight of the other man and Jon gave him a small, shy smile, and murmured, 'morning,' before falling in beside him like normal as he headed for the showers. He waited outside for a change, something that made Theon give an inward sigh of relief. He didn't know if he could deal with being naked and soapy and having Jon just a few short feet away. He didn't think begging the other man to go down on him in the shower would come under the category of 'going slow'.

They walked side by side down to the Great Hall for breakfast and Jon's hand brushed against Theon's more than once, but neither of them made a move to hold on. At breakfast Jon sat closer to him than normal, his thigh pressed all along Theon's, a warm presence that made him smile into his toast and glace across at grey eyes which reflected his happiness. Gendry caught the smile and his gaze sharpened as he looked between the two of them, eyebrows raised, then he turned to Robb.  
'Ten galleons, Stark,' he crowed, a grin spreading across his face as he held out his hand. Robb's head pulled around and he eyed the two of them as well before cocking an eyebrow at Jon, 'Didn't think you had it in you, brother. Congratulations. I guess the plans to get you both drunk at New Years and shove you in a cupboard together can be cancelled?' A smirk spread across his face and Theon glanced across to see Jon's face heating.  
He looked back at Robb, a hint of his old cockiness surfacing, 'Oh, I don't know, Stark. Maybe we could just modify the plan to include Talisa … since you seem to be having a little trouble.'

Robb's face was shocked for a moment and then a grin spread across it as all around them people roared with laughter. Gendry leaned across the table to bump fists with Theon who grinned at him. Underneath the table, Jon's hand dropped to Theon's thigh and squeezed briefly before disappearing. Theon glanced quickly across at him to see Jon laughing quietly as well. He felt a glow of warmth at the look on the other man's face. He seemed contented, relaxed. There was none of the showy PDA he'd had with anyone else Theon had seen him with, and somehow that made him feel happy, like Jon wanted to keep what was between them - what might be between them - private.

\----- 

The last few days of classes passed in a blur. Theon just managed to hand everything in - though he wasn't looking forward to receiving a few of his marks back after the break. He fell into bed each night in an exhausted haze punctuated by memories of the stolen kisses he'd received that day, the constant small touches that Jon didn't seem to be able to help, the feeling of Jon's arms wrapping around him from behind as he peered over Theon's shoulder to look for the same books as him in a back corner of the library. He fell asleep each night with a smile on his lips - somehow feeling this was too good to be true.

Before he knew it, classes were over and most of the students had packed their things in a mad scramble and headed for home. Theon never went home for Christmas and it was one of his favourite times of year at the school. The corridors were mostly empty and there was barely a student from a pureblood family who wasn't called home to parade through the glittering parties and balls of the holiday season with their families. Most notably, Bolton always left for the holidays. There was no chance the Minister for Magic would let him stay, no matter how much the last, dark look he shot at Theon on his way out of the castle made it clear he would have liked to get Theon alone in a quiet corridor over the break.

This year would be even better. Jon and most of the other students from Durmstrang were staying too. The Beauxbatons had gone home it seemed but when Theon asked Jon why he was still staying, he'd just shrugged and said everyone had been happy enough for a chance to avoid the craziness of the Winter Balls and the Christmas feasts with all the other big wizarding families back home. Looking at them, Theon had to agree that none of them was really the type to be into glittering social occasions - apart from Robb maybe, but Theon had a feeling he'd ascertained that the Healer would be staying over the holiday break too and that with minimal patients, she might have some more time to spend with him.

The school was quiet on Christmas Eve, after everyone had departed. Those who were left stood around in the entrance hall for a bit until someone suggested ice skating. Theon was about to make his apologies and escape when Jon grabbed his hand, an excited look on his face.  
'I haven't skated in forever,' he said with a grin, 'come on.' Theon let himself be tugged along, not wanting to disappoint Jon, but inwardly cringing at the thought of flailing all over the place in front of him. When they got down to the section of the Lake that curved into an almost-pool and froze over every year, Gilly surprised Theon by being the one to cast the spell to form razor sharp skates on everyone's shoes.  
She seemed to catch his look of surprise and shrugged shyly. 'I'm from the North remember. In my town there's not much to do _apart_ from skate.' Theon smiled at her. He'd forgotten Gilly boarded every year during holidays rather than pay the travel back home.

He brushed the snow off a rock and sat for a moment, looking around. Gendry caught his eye first, already skating smoothly across the ice - backwards - pulling a wobbly looking Pod behind him. Podrick was another who always stayed - who could blame him with the family he had waiting for him back home. Arya and Ygritte were already whirling and darting over the slick surface, playing some complicated game that was bringing their skates perilously close to each other's faces as they spun and kicked out at regular intervals. Shireen was skating slowly around the edge of the ice, seemingly content to watch. For a fleeting moment, Theon wondered what it must be like to be stuck at school with your father every day - he shivered at the thought of having to spend that much time with his own father.

Robb had stayed at the castle - no guesses as to where - and Tormund had walked out to the edge of the ice and seemed to be setting up some sort of fishing pole. Sam Tarly made his way over to sit beside Theon, eyes on Gilly's graceful form as she moved confidently across the ice. He flushed when Theon raised an eyebrow at him, mumbling, 'I'd only make a fool of myself.'  
Theon hesitated, then decided to speak anyway, 'I don't think she'd see it that way. She'd probably just be happy to have your company.'  
'Indeed,' Jon said, walking up and reaching a hand out to Theon. He sighed, knowing he should take his own advice and stop worrying about feeling silly. There'd been a time when he'd have been too proud to reveal he couldn't do something perfectly … but those days were long past.

He slid his warmly gloved hand into Jon's bare one and the other man pulled him to his feet, the tender look in his eyes sparking warmth inside Theon that drowned out the potential embarrassment. Jon stepped onto the ice first, gliding forward a metre, still holding one of Theon's hands in his own. Theon hesitated before stepping gingerly on. He immediately felt his feet shoot out from under him and his arms went wide in flailing panic. Instead of hitting the ground like he'd expected, he found himself caught in Jon's arms just inches above the hard surface. His legs had slid through Jon's and the other man was leaning down with a look of amusement on his face as he held Theon.  
'Not as at home on frozen water I see?' he teased gently as he slid backwards, pulling Theon upright as he moved. Theon wobbled, one hand grasping tightly at Jon's forearm to keep his balance.  
'We didn't all grow up in a frozen wasteland, Snow,' he snarked back, trying to concentrate on not ending up on his arse. Jon skated in closer to him so that their bodies were flush against each other and then he bent his head to whisper in Theon's ear.  
'Relax. Trust me. I won't let you fall.'

Theon closed his eyes momentarily against the heat of Jon's body, the whisper of breath against his ear as the other man spoke. He opened them again to see Jon had pulled back and was looking him in the eyes, his own grey ones earnest and sincere. He felt himself relaxing as he realised he did trust Jon. He knew Jon wouldn't hurt him - let him be hurt. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.  
'Right. Make a pro skater out of me then.'  
Jon laughed as he took Theon's hand in his own and spun around, pushing off and pulling Theon beside him into a sweeping glide across the ice.  
'I know I'm a wizard Theon … but that doesn’t mean I can work miracles.'  
Theon poked his tongue out at Jon, whose gaze dropped to his mouth for a moment, his eyes darkening. Then he seemed to shake himself, muttering something that Theon didn't catch but he thought included the word _distracting_.

As they moved across the ice, Theon felt himself relaxing more and more into the smooth movements, the faint breeze against his face as they cut circles and swirls across the surface. Jon held his hand the entire time, balancing him and seeming to have a sixth sense for when his legs seemed to be going in the wrong direction. Without effort Jon turned them and swirled them, faster and faster, steering him effortlessly through the other skaters. Theon glanced across from time to time to see Jon's curls tousled by the wind, his face slightly pink from the cold, his eyes bright with happiness as they met Theon's.  
Suddenly Jon's smile widened, 'You ready for solo?'  
Theon's eyes widened in panic, 'You ready for me to mess up my face?' he countered, trying to keep his voice casual.  
Jon laughed. 'I'll be right here. There's no way I'll risk your pretty face,' his cheeks pinked as he spoke but he met Theon's eyes boldly. Theon felt his heart trip at the words - at the thought that Jon found him attractive.

Next moment Jon's hand disengaged from Theon's and he found himself gliding over the ice, moving smoothly. He pushed with one skate and then the other, arms out as though Jon still held him steady. To his amazement he didn't wobble, didn't fall. A wide grin split his face as he moved more and more confidently. Jon skated beside him for a short time, then around him and behind him.  
'You're a natural,' he said, coming up beside Theon to take his hand again, squeezing gently. 'Balancing on skates is just like balancing on a moving deck.'  
Theon shot him an incredulous look, 'It's nothing like balancing on a moving deck. How often have you actually sailed on that thing?'  
Jon shrugged, 'Well we came here on it … though I'm not actually sure you could call that sailing …'  
Theon shook his head, 'I have so much to teach you,' he grinned, then froze, realising this was the first time either of them had mentioned doing something together after school had finished. But Jon just smiled at him, moving forward to spin Theon in a tight circle, ending with Jon's arms around him and Jon's face close to his.

'I'm looking forward to every second of it,' he murmured as he leaned in for a sweet, slow kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a chapter about Christmas ... I completely failed to make this a chapter about Christmas. 
> 
> I promise the next one will be though, and the one after is some drunken New Years fun :D


	28. Chapter 28

Theon woke early on Christmas morning to see a pile of presents on the end of his bed and a note on top saying, Bring them to the ship - J. He smiled and stretched, rubbing one hand over his face before pushing the covers back and stepping onto the cold floor. He had a quick shower before going back up to his room to gather the small packages into a bag, adding the ones he'd purchased and making his way down to the ship.

He'd obviously been spotted because Jon was waiting by the little row boat when he got down to the water's edge. He was wearing a warm-looking black woollen jumper with a pattern of running white wolves around the bottom of it. He walked forward to meet Theon, drawing him into a warm embrace and murmuring 'Merry Christmas' in his ear, before pulling back to place a kiss on his lips. Then he leaned in again for another kiss and then a third. Theon wrapped his arms around Jon's waist and pulled him in closer, tilting his head at the same time to deepen the kiss. Jon moaned softly into his mouth, reaching up to cup Theon's face and the back of his neck. The kiss turned hotter and Theon pulled Jon even closer against him, feeling the other man responding to their closeness. He bit lightly at Jon's lip and got another moan. He shifted his hands slowly so they moved down Jon's back and onto his hips, then down to his arse, squeezing lightly.

As he did so, Jon broke the kiss, face flushed and breathing harder. 'We should get across to the ship,' he said with a grin, stepping back in the direction of the boat. 'Half the others are probably watching us anyway.' Theon pushed away the small stab of disappointment at the words and put a smile onto his face, 'Wouldn't want to give Arya any more fodder than she currently has I guess.'

The atmosphere inside the galley was warm and festive. There was a fire crackling away in the kitchen and twinkling lights had been strung up in the rafters. A large pine tree covered in garish decorations was crammed into one corner and the top third of it was bent over and laying across the ceiling. There were presents heaped under it. Theon eyed it sideways and Jon whispered, 'Arya likes to do the tree.' Theon glanced across to see the young woman in question watching him with narrowed eyes and he plastered a big grin across his face, 'Great tree - reminds me of the ones we have at home.'  
Arya's eyes narrowed further, and she smirked at him, 'You don't have to suck up to me just because you're banging my brother, squid boy, they don't even have trees on Pyke. I've done basic geography you know.'  
Theon flushed a deep red at the laughter that broke out across the room and Arya's grin broadened at his expense. He made a mental note not to try and bullshit anyone in Jon's family if he didn't absolutely know he could get away with it.

Just then Gendry walked into the room, a sleep rumpled Pod in his Hufflepuff pjs following behind him. Gendry brightened when he saw Theon and said, 'Awesome, present time!'  
'Can we at least eat first?' Ygritte asked from her spot over by the kitchen bench where she stood, cupping a large mug with both hands.  
'If we're lucky we can eat the presents,' Gendry said back, eyeing off the large pile as though trying to figure out which ones held sweets.  
Ygritte rolled her eyes but moved to take a seat at the benches and chairs that had been laid out in a semi circle around the tree. Arya, Robb, Gendry, Pod and Jon all took their own seats and Theon looked around the small group before placing the gifts he'd brought with the rest and sitting next to Jon, their arms touching lightly. He leaned in to ask quietly, 'Where's everyone else?'

Jon looked around the small group before replying, 'Tormund is visiting with a friend - one of those dragon handlers from the first challenge. Mance is up at the castle I think. He said we'd see him at the lunch feast. A bunch of the others decided to go into the city for Christmas. They decided if they weren't going all the way home, they may as well get out of the school.'  
'You didn't want to go and see the sights?' Theon asked nonchalantly, deliberately looking at the presents that were already being passed around.  
He felt Jon shrug beside him, 'There were other things at school that interested me more,' he said and Theon glanced across to see that Jon's eyes were warm as they watched him. He couldn't help the small smile that broke across his face.

Then Arya was zooming presents around the room, piling them up in front of their owners and he was distracted by the tearing of paper and the small sounds of happiness or pleasure around the room. People were pulling out sweets and jumpers and Arya exclaimed particularly loudly over a sneak-o-scope. Jon's voice was full of laughter when he told her that if she wasn't careful she'd be the one always setting the thing off. 

Jon sifted through his pile and then pulled out the two Theon had got for him. Theon watched him without trying to be too intense about it. He'd organised the gifts _before_ , and based on what had happened a few days ago between them, now he wasn't certain if there were right for … whatever they were to each other now.  
Jon opened the first one to see a jar of pale green beans. His lips quirked into a smile and Theon knew he was remembering their Hogsmeade trip.  
'Not troll bogeys I hope?' he asked, eyeing the jar with feigned horror. Theon grinned at him and shook his head. 'Have one,' he said, biting his lip softly while he waited to see Jon's reaction.  
The other man scooped out a few beans and bit into them, before closing his eyes and moaning softly at the taste. Theon felt his heart kick over and warmth flood through him at the sound and tried to push the reaction away in front of everyone else.  
Then Jon opened his eyes and looked across, licking his lips, 'That's delicious. I've never had that flavour before - what is it?'  
Theon smiled, pleased at his reaction, 'It's Apfelstrudel,' he said. 'It's one of the location-specific flavours. You can only get it on Pyke.' Jon smiled in pleasure at that and bit into another bean before leaning forward to press a light kiss to Theon's lips. The taste of the beans mixed with the taste of Jon made him want to press forward and kiss deeper … but he had a feeling Jon wouldn't be on board with that in front over everyone else.

He sat back as Jon opened his second gift and took a taste of that as well before quirking an eyebrow at him as he sucked on the dark green sweet.  
'Candied seaweed,' Theon said in answer. 'My mum used to make it for me …' his voice trailed off as his throat got unexpectedly tight. He hadn’t been emotional thinking about his mum for a while now, but something about this scene - about sharing a part of her with Jon, stirred up old hurts in a way that was bittersweet.  
Jon's hand came down onto Theon's knee and he squeezed lightly before rubbing his thumb gently back and forth.  
'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'They're delicious.'

Theon broke eye contact and looked down at the gifts in his lap, trying to gather himself and deciding to open Arya's one first. It was small and seemed to be wiggling … when he pulled the paper off, Jon took one look at what Theon was holding in his hand and balled the discarded paper up and threw it at Arya, hitting her in the face. At that she couldn't hold in her snort of laughter any more. The others all looked over and the chuckles spread around the room. Theon couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips as he looked down at his palm, then across at the red-faced Jon beside him, and then back down to his palm where a miniature Jon Snow, Winterfell Warriors Seeker, stalked moodily across his hand. He put his hand up closer to his face to see that the figure was uncannily accurate. It crossed its arms and _glared_ at him. Theon let out a little laugh at the sullenness in its face.  
'You _told me_ you didn't have anymore,' Jon said to Arya through gritted teeth.  
Theon put a hand on Jon's knee, leaning into him, 'I think he's cute,' he said, voice teasing lightly. Jon subsided with a huff and a glare at Arya that so closely mirrored the tiny figurine that it set them all off into fresh laughter.

Theon was still chuckling when he picked up a bulky package. It was from Jon he noted with pleasure as he pulled at the strings tying the plain paper shut. He pulled out a black sweater made of the softest wool he'd ever felt - the really expensive stuff. Around the bottom were embroidered golden squids and they seemed to be undulating slightly across the fabric. He looked up at Jon, running a hand across the soft wool unconsciously.  
'Thank you,' he began, 'It's -'  
'Jesus, Jon. I didn't realise it was this seri -' Robb began saying, but cut himself off abruptly as Theon and Jon both turned to look at him. Jon didn't say anything, but his gaze was intense as it met Robb's and Theon looked between the two of them, confusion growing. Jon looked at him and sighed.  
'It's nothing, really. It's just that my step mum - my father's wife - makes everyone a new sweater every year for Christmas and she - well she doesn't make me one. So I learned to make them one year and I make myself one every Christmas … it's kind of dumb but I guess it's just my way of making it clear that I'm a part of the family too …' 

Theon looked around and realised that both Robb and Arya were wearing warm woollens with the Stark family crest embroidered across the chest. Then he looked back at Jon's jumper with the wolf pattern on the hem with new eyes.  
'You made this?' he asked slowly, looking back down at his own jumper. 'You made this for me?'  
Jon shrugged, reddening, 'It's nothing, really. It doesn't take a long time. I just thought you might want something warm.'  
Theon stroked his hand over the wool again, trying not to put too much stock in the fact that Jon had made him a jumper that for him was a sentiment about belonging and family. Surely that wasn't what he'd meant when he'd made this one … come to think of it, just when _had_ he made this one. How long had he been planning to give it to Theon … Theon looked up to meet Jon's grey eyes. They were clear and deep and Theon could feel how easy it would be to get lost in them. To fall into them and trust that he would be caught. He felt himself sway forward towards Jon -

'Uh … I didn't know we were opening them in front of everyone,' Pod stuttered, breaking the moment and bringing everyone's eyes back to him and Gendry as they followed Pod's gaze down to the package Gendry was now shaking and eyeing curiously.  
Gendry looked up at his boyfriend and down at his hands, shaking the package again and hearing a dull metal clank. A gleam of interest entered his face, 'I don't have to,' he said, beginning to put it to one side.  
'You do now!' Robb said, leaning forward with a leer, seemingly happy for the distraction from the scene he'd just helped create. There were noises of agreement from around the room and Theon eyed Pod's reddening face and Gendry's growing grin with amusement that was tinged with a hint of sympathy for the other man.

Then Gendry leaned in to whisper something in Pod's ear. The other man whispered back to him and Gendry let out a low chuckle, before pulling Pod forward and kissing him hungrily. Theon was already on edge from Jon's looks and he shifted slightly in his seat as the kiss got deeper and Gendry's hands dropped to Pod's waist and then to the top of his flannel pants. With what looked like great restraint Gendry broke away from the kiss and pulled Pod out of the chair, scooping up the still-wrapped gift before pulling him out of the room with a throw away, 'Merry Christmas,' over his shoulder. As the door slid closed to a number of wolf whistles from within the room, Theon saw Pod's arms go around Gendry from behind, hands sliding deftly down the front of his pants as the other man ground his hips against Gendry's arse.  
He couldn't help the quick flicker of frustration that ran through him. It had been several days now. Several days of kissing and hugging and hand holding … but nothing even remotely below the belt. It wasn't like he wanted to go straight to fucking … but he could do with things being a lot less PG, that was for sure. Jon was great, Jon was sweet, Jon was gentle … but there was just a hesitation - an uncertainty - to his actions that Theon didn't understand. It seemed at odds with the gestures he was making - gestures like the jumper …

He was distracted from his thoughts by another present being passed his way and looked up to see Robb's knowing eyes on him as he unwrapped the bottle of fire whisky. He flushed slightly and pulled his thoughts back to the present, trying to focus on what he did have, and just how good it was.

_____

Lunch passed quickly. The Great Hall was decked out in usual Christmas style, with massive trees lining the walls, beautiful fairy lights twinkling across them and garlands of tinsel in softly glowing House colours adorning them. The ceiling reflected the gently falling snow outside and the hundreds of glowing candles added a soft light to the warm room.

Only one table had been set for the two dozen students and the few teachers who'd remained behind over the break. It was the one time of year when it didn't matter who was from what house or who were students and who teachers. They all sat together and ate and drank and wore silly hats. Theon smiled at Robb who had managed to sit himself next to Healer Maegyr and was leaning in to tell her a story in a low voice. She seemed to be very interested, smiling and looking up at him as he gestured, brushing softly against her occasionally. _Good for him_ , Theon thought.  
Then Jon handed him a cracker and as they both pulled it, a bullhorn sounded from within. All eyes turned to them as the cracker burst and the items inside came spilling out, returning to full size as the shrinking charm reversed itself. Jon grinned as he spotted the rakish pirate hat and he immediately scooped it up to place it on Theon's head, as Theon tried ineffectively to bat his hands away.

Lunch was nice. It was nice and it was sweet and by the end of it, Theon had decided that he just wanted something _more_. As they were all getting up to leave, Theon leaned in to whisper in Jon's ear, 'I have another present for you. Up in my room.'  
Jon looked across at him, grey eyes sparking with interest and then he smiled and said, 'Lead the way.'  
He hurried up to the Gryffindor common room, pulling Jon through the portrait with him for the first time. But he didn't stop to show him around, despite the way Jon's head was swivelling from side to side as they passed through. They went straight up the stairs to Theon's room - empty now that his roommates were all home for Christmas.

As soon as they stepped through the door, Theon captured Jon's mouth in a kiss, pushing him back up against the door with a thud. Jon hesitated only a second before kissing him back, hands coming up to the back of Theon's neck as he moaned lightly into the kiss. Theon knew they could kiss like this forever, getting messier and hotter but not taking it any further. Normally he would have been fine to do so - Jon was a fantastic kisser - but today he wanted more. He broke off and kissed his way down Jon's neck, revelling in the way that Jon's hands moved to his back and pulled him closer as he tilted his head to give Theon more access. Theon bit lightly at his skin and Jon's punched out groan sent a thrill of heat through him. Theon bit him again, harder this time, and Jon's hands seemed to tighten involuntarily on him, pulling him closer again.

He pulled back lightly and began to sink to his knees, hands coming up to the button of Jon's jeans, popping it easily as he leaned in to mouth at Jon's hardness through the material. Jon's hands fell to Theon's shoulders and he seemed to lean forward, pushing himself backward against the door, as though moving away.

'Theon, wait. Stop. This isn't - I don't -' Jon stammered, hands gripping Theon's shoulders, holding him in place. It was like a bucket of icy water thrown over him. Theon heard the words and felt the grip … and he knew it was Jon. He knew. But suddenly all he could feel were Ramsey Bolton's cruel hands on him and Bolton's words hissed in his ear. _I don't want you, Reek. No one wants you. No one will ever want you. Look at you. Look at you begging for it like a little slut. That's all you are isn't it. A dirty little whore. You know what little whores get, Reek?_ The voice colder, a dark glee in it now, _Imperio_.

He could feel the air dragging through his lungs and his heartbeat ratcheting through his chest and he grasped at those sensations, rocking back on to his heels and curling in on himself, squeezing his eyes tight shut. Trying to just focus, just breathe. Just remember where he was. He was safe. He was in his room. Bolton wasn't here. He wasn't - The sensation of being on his knees, of being unwanted - it pushed itself back into the centre of his mind again, fighting to take over, to push him into the memories. Into a panic attack. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't - then there were hands on him. Gentle hands, not holding or restraining, but soothing. And a voice. A soft voice. 'Theon, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe. I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe Theon. That's it. With me, in and out. That's it. I'm here.' Again and again, a soothing rhythm. He kept his eyes shut and just tried to focus on the words. Tried not to let what he was doing - freaking out in front of a guy he never wanted to have see this side of him - enter his mind. He knew if he grabbed hold of the shame and embarrassment of that, he'd cycle himself right back up into panic.

He let out shaky breath after shaky breath and slowly, bit by bit, he calmed and his heartbeat returned back to normal. He became aware that Jon was kneeling in front of him, legs to either side of where he still sat on his knees and his head was resting on Jon's chest as the other man rubbed soothing circles on his back. The steady beat of Jon's heart under his cheek soothed him and he took another deep breath before he forced himself to push away, to sit back on the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He didn't want to meet Jon's eyes. Didn't want to see the pity he knew must be reflected in them. But Jon didn’t say anything. Didn't move. Didn't leave.

When Theon finally looked up, all he could see on Jon's face was guilt and sadness. He understood the sadness, that was close enough to pity, but what did Jon have to be guilty about … unless he felt like he'd somehow set Theon off. He needed to - Jon shouldn't have to put up with someone like him - someone who was broken. He sighed, looking away, saying farewell so something he now realised he had hoped so very much could be real.  
'I'm sorry -'  
'I shouldn't -'  
They both started to say at the same time. Jon stopped and gestured for Theon to speak. Theon ran a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath.  
'I'm sorry. That - that happens sometimes and - thanks. I - I shouldn't have assumed you'd want to - want me like … that. I won't … well you won't have to worry about me again …' Theon said, eyes dipping lower and lower as he spoke before finally he was staring at the floor, shoulders hunched, waiting for Jon to tell him he was going - that it had been fun but he had better things to do with people who were a whole lot more stable than he was.

To his surprise, Jon reached out, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. When he spoke, his voice was quiet though the first few words were fierce.  
'You have nothing to be sorry about,' he said, looking into Theon's eyes, before shifting his own away and squeezing Theon's fingers a little tighter. 'I shouldn't - shouldn't have stopped you. I was just … surprised. I - I've never …' he trailed off, face reddening and Theon looked at him, confusion filling him at the words, pushing out some of the mortification and lingering fear.  
'Never what?' he asked quietly.  
Jon hesitated then said, 'Never done … that.'  
Theon felt his eyes widen and his mind race, 'I - what do you mean?' he asked, thinking back to all the stories he'd heard - to what he'd _seen_. 'You've been with heaps of people. Done heaps of things.'  
But Jon was shaking his head, a look of misery on his face. 'I haven't. The only person I've ever done anything with - anything more than kiss - is Ygritte. And that was a long time ago.'  
Theon could still feel confusion filling him. He knew it was written all over him from the quick, tense look Jon shot him, as though waiting to be laughed at, or condemned.

Jon continued speaking, 'People - all sorts of people try and do things with me - to me - all the time. So I have this way of dealing with it - this system.'  
Theon nodded, 'Robb told me a bit about it. You sleep with the hottest or most powerful ones and then dump them and the rest back off.'  
Jon winced and shook his head, 'I -' he took a deep breath. 'I've never told anyone this. I don't sleep with them. I don't do more than kiss them. I - uh - I use a confundus charm. I just tell them to imagine whatever their plan was for the night actually happened. It's their own minds that fills in the details.'

Theon stared at him, fingers gripping tighter as Jon tried to pull away, tried to retreat into himself. The implications of what he'd just heard - and the fact that Jon had wanted to tell it to him - rocketing through him.

Abruptly he laughed, a barking laugh that held very little humour. Jon's startled eyes flashed up to meet Theon's and he frowned, clearly feeling like he was being laughed at. But something he saw in Theon's face must have convinced him this wasn't the case, because he relaxed slightly.  
Theon laughed again and then sighed.  
'Look at us,' he said, a twisted grin on his face. 'I doubt you could find two more damaged people in the whole of Hogwarts. We're practically perfect for each other.'

Jon was silent for a long moment, then he smiled, rubbing his thumb lightly across Theon's. 'Yes,' he agreed softly. 'We are.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God it feels good to post again. I hate taking so much time between chs.
> 
> Happy Easter everyone!
> 
> Love to know your thoughts ... particularly about Jon's little twist ... been sitting on that one a while now. Wanted to angst it out a whole bunch more but I got impatient.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. Much thanks to @theonsfavouritetoy for the beautiful xmas sweets ideas
> 
> P.P.S. If there are any errors around panic attack/anxiety type symptoms I apologise. I just want to make the point that Theon can't have had done to him what Bolton did and be perfectly fine to just jump back into a sexual situation ... even if he thought he was okay to... (if that sentiment causes any issues for people who feel otherwise I apologise for that too)


	29. Chapter 29

Theon woke slowly, feeling so much more relaxed and rested than he'd felt in so long he couldn't remember. He stretched, blinking sleepily and then froze as he registered the warm arm across his chest and the firm body resting along the back of his. He lay there a moment in the semi-darkness, letting the memories flood back in. They'd talked, him and Jon, talked for ages about themselves and each other … sharing things neither of them had told anyone else. At some point they'd moved to bed and lain facing each other on top of the covers as the light left the sky. Theon vaguely remembered Jon telling him a story about one time he'd set Ghost on a teacher of his back home who wouldn't leave him alone. He had a feeing that was when he'd drifted off to sleep.

Now, lying there in his bed in the dim light of early morning, with Jon's warm presence behind him, Theon was aware - very aware - suddenly of how much they were touching. Jon's legs were tangled through his and the other man's breath bushed lightly at the back of his neck. Despite the fact that they were fully clothed, it was the most intimate position Theon could remember being in, in a very long time. Theon shifted slowly, trying to move himself further away from Jon. After their discussion last night he couldn't imagine the other man feeling comfortable waking up and finding himself tangled so closely with Theon. But at his movement, Jon's arm on him tightened and he moved his face into Theon's neck, rubbing against it lightly as he muttered something indistinguishable into his skin.

Theon felt warmth tingle through him at the movement, which brought their bodies into even closer proximity. He drew in a shaky breath and fought the urge to push back against Jon. He had no desire to revisit the unintentional rejection of the day before, which had led him into a near panic attack. Instead he lay still, just letting himself enjoy the feeling of Jon's body against his - the warmth and strength of his embrace. To his surprise, Jon tilted his hips forward and Theon felt the rub of the other man's hard length against his arse. At the same time, Jon's lips brushed over his neck, and then he felt a gentle scrape of teeth. Theon couldn't help the breath that hissed through his teeth or the flood of heat that rushed through him in response to the movement. 

He fought to control the sensation, control the swiftly growing tide of desire as Jon's clearly hard cock rubbed against his arse again. He couldn't - Jon was barely even awake - he didn't know what he was doing. He probably didn't even realise it was Theon in his arms. He pulled away a bit - a more deliberate movement this time and Jon's arm loosened slightly. Theon fought away the disappointment this evoked and was about to roll over and face the other man when there was a shuffle of movement behind him and he felt Jon's mouth at his neck again. This time it was a kiss, hot and wet and ending in suction that had him laying his head to the side to offer himself up to Jon with a low moan that he couldn't contain.   
Jon's voice, when he spoke, was low and husky in Theon's ear, 'Want you.'  
Theon shivered, but this time he did turn, shuffling so he was laying on his back, Jon pressed along his side as he looked up into the other man's sleep tousled hair and relaxed, happy face. The usually jagged black lines around his eyes had smoothed out as well and Theon reached up one finger to rub lightly against the inky mark. Jon shivered slightly under his touch and the tattoo undulated smoothly in response, seeming to move forward and gather at Theon's fingertip.

Jon leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips as he opened his mouth to speak. Theon couldn't help but respond and the kiss was slow and deep. Jon's hand came up to cup his face, tangling in Theon's hair as he tilted his face up, biting gently at his lip before claiming his mouth again. The posture put him halfway across Theon's chest and his weight pressing down was grounding, rather than oppressive. He wanted to feel Jon on top of him, laid out against him, and felt his cock twitch with interest at the thought. But something else - something more pressing - kept intruding, and finally he broke the kiss, pushing lightly against Jon's chest until he levered himself up onto one elbow, the other hand gently twisting curls into the hair at the back of Theon's neck.

Theon looked up at Jon, his mouth already red from kissing, his eyes dark with need and he wanted to bite his own tongue, but he said it anyway, eyes dropping unconsciously as he did, 'You don't have to do this,' he said quietly, feeling his body tense as he spoke the words.  
Jon's hand froze in its soft movements and Theon darted a glance up to see Jon frowning down at him. 'What do you - Theon, I _want_ to do this.' Then his frown deepened into confusion and he began to move back. 'Unless you don't want me to, of course. I'm sorry - I shouldn't have assum-'  
Theon stopped him by reaching up desperately to cover Jon's mouth with his hand and Jon's eyes narrowed slightly and the black marks around them sharpened but he stopped speaking. Theon took a deep, shaky breath, keeping his hand in place.  
'I want this - you. So much. You have no idea. But what we talked about yesterday - You don't have to prove anything to me. Or do anything you don't want to.'

Theon was surprised to see Jon's face relax and then he felt a kiss pressed into his palm, and then a teasing bite nipping against his skin which shot warmth back through him. Then Jon nudged his hand out of the way and bent his head back down to kiss Theon again. This time it was a harder kiss, more passionate, and Jon's hand came up to cup Theon's jaw as his tongue entered Theon's mouth. He kissed and licked and bit his way into Theon's mouth until all he could think of was the touch and taste of Jon against him. A flicker of a thought about how Jon had gained his incredible skills snaked through his mind and Theon pushed away the stab of jealousy that the thought evoked. 

Then Jon shifted, recapturing his whole attention as he lifted his body and moved between Theon's legs, hovering just above him and looking down, a hint of uncertainty back in his face, 'Is this okay?' he asked and Theon got the feeling he was asking himself just as much as checking if Theon was alright. He bit his lip and nodded, unable to help himself from reaching up and gently pulling Jon down onto him. Theon let out a low moan as their bodies aligned and he felt the delicious, hot friction of Jon's hardness rub against his cock. The sound was echoed by Jon and then they were kissing again. It was messy and frantic, both panting into each other's mouths, hands moving over each other, from faces and necks to shoulders, arms, chests and back to faces. Theon couldn't get enough of touching him. Tasting him. Feeling him.

Then Jon rolled his hips, pressing his hard length against Theon's again and they both froze at the intensity of the feeling that rushed through them. Theon felt fiery heat ignite through his body and his hands dropped to Jon's arse. He urged him to move again, to continue that delicious friction against his own need. Jon rolled his hips again and then he broke their kiss, dropping his head into Theon's neck as he murmured a broken, 'Fuck Theon. So good.'  
Theon's hands clenched harder on Jon's arse at the words and he whimpered as he tilted his own hips up to grind against Jon. Jon buried his face in Theon's neck, one hand gripping lightly in his hair as he sucked and bit at Theon's skin.

Theon urged him to move again and Jon groaned and pressed a kiss into Theon's neck before moving back up to recapture his mouth. Through hazy eyes, Theon could see the markings on the other man's face were swirling and spiking, unable to hold their shape for more than a second. Suddenly he wanted to see what the ones all down Jon's arms and spread over his chest and back looked like, but he didn't want to break the intense grinding friction between the two of them. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with every movement, ever rub of Jon's hard cock against his - even through the layers of both of their clothes. He imagined how it would feel to have nothing between them and whimpered, clutching Jon harder to him.

Jon broke away from his mouth again, kissing and biting his way down Theon's jaw.  
'Fuck,' he rasped. 'Theon. I'm gonna - I need -' Theon felt another jolt of want shock through him at Jon's words - at the thought of him -  
He tilted his mouth to Jon's ear and nipped lightly at it, sending a shudder through the man above him, whose hips still worked against his. 'Do it. I want you to.'  
With a moan of need, Jon's grip tightened in Theon's hair and his mouth found Theon's neck again, sucking hard as he pistoned his hips once, twice and then he shuddered and his body tightened against Theon. He let out a low, broken cry and a gasping breath as he moved, slower now, against Theon's achingly hard body. Finally he stopped, his grip loosening and his head dropping so he rested his face against Theon's skin, his breath still panting through his chest. It was a few moments before he pushed himself back up a few inches, so that he was looking Theon in the eyes. Jon's gaze was tinged with a pleased embarrassment that made something curl in Theon's chest to have been the cause of it.

'Did you -?' he asked softly, eyes flicking away in momentary shyness, before moving back to meet Theon's. Theon moved his hips slowly against Jon, letting him feel the hardness that remained. Then he shook his head slowly, biting down on his lip at the sensation. Jon rolled off him slightly and his hand hovered above Theon's straining pants, not quite touching.  
'Do you want me to?' he asked, this time not meeting Theon's gaze. Theon looked at him, saw the other man's uncertainty and then grinned as an idea struck him.   
'No,' he said, keeping his grin in place as Jon's eyes flashed up to meet his, a hint of hurt and rejection entering them. He continued quickly, 'But do you want to watch while I do?'  
Jon's look changed instantly, the hesitation gone, replaced by fresh need that had Theon's cock pushing harder for release.  
'Gods yes,' he breathed, leaning in to capture Theon's mouth in a searing kiss that left him gasping and wanting again.

Theon moved his good hand down to the fastenings of his pants, undoing them with fingers that trembled. He pushed inside, cupping his length and squeezing softly for a moment, hissing at the sensation of bare skin on his aching cock. Then he looked back up at Jon, hesitating a moment before he made the move to pull his pants down further. Jon's eyes were glued to the spot where his hand disappeared into his pants. As Theon watched, the other man licked his lips in an unconscious gesture. His tattoos had stilled again, framing his eyes and looking like nothing so much as a wolf's ears, perked forward in the moment before the pounce. Theon smiled to himself and pulled his hard cock out of his pants, grunting as the head dragged over the band of his underwear, leaving a smear of pre-come and a jolt of sensation through him.

He fisted his hand slowly up and down it, moving over the head to gather the moisture dripping there and slick it down his length, moaning lightly at how good it felt to do so. He looked across at Jon again. The other man was barely breathing now, lips parted slightly as he watched the slow movement of Theon's hand over his own cock. Theon sped up his movement. He couldn't help it. Having Jon right there, feeling the other man's heat against him, having Jon watching him … everything was more intense. He felt his breathing accelerate again and he realised this had been the right call. For both of them. There was something about having Jon watch him, about him being the one in charge, deciding what Jon would see and when he would let himself come that made him relax and let himself go fully into the moment. He wasn't going to do anything he didn't want to. Jon would never make him do anything he didn't want to.

He rubbed a thumb over the sensitive head of his slicked up cock, looking across at Jon, who was biting hard at his own lip now, fingers twitching as he watched.  
'I've thought about you,' Theon gasped. 'While doing this. So many times.'  
Jon's eyes flashed back up to meet his and they were so dark, so deep with need and want and longing that Theon whimpered as he sped his movements up, clenching and stroking and swirling. He panted and gasped as his hand moved more and more quickly, all the while Jon watched him with burning intensity. Then Jon leaned back down to kiss him, a fiery, passionate, _claiming_ kiss and Theon felt his balls tighten and the climax rushed through him. He choked out a groan into Jon's mouth as he curled in on himself slightly, still rubbing himself as he felt his come spill over his clenched fist. Jon's hand returned to Theon's hair as he kissed his way through Theon's climax, swallowing every sound Theon made into his own mouth, the kiss gentling as Theon began to relax. As he slumped back to the bed, boneless and satiated, tucking himself back into his pants, Jon kissed him lightly on the lips, the barest of touches.

Then he drew back with a smile and said, 'I'm going to need a new pair of pants, but that was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.'  
Theon smiled up at him as, for a moment, the thought of Jon's absolute lack of experience flickered across his mind, but then he focussed on what the other man was saying again.  
'Next time, I want to - to do that,' Jon said, cheeks pinking, though he held Theon's gaze.  
'You really don't have to feel like you have to -' he began, wanting to make _sure_ Jon knew he wouldn't push him - wouldn't pressure him into anything he wasn't ready for.  
'Theon?' Jon interrupted.  
Theon hummed in acknowledgment.  
'You talk too much,' Jon said with a smile as he leaned back in to capture Theon's mouth again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked that little interlude, please give a shout out to @theonsfavouritetoy who voted for it over a 'skip ahead to New Years' chapter ... and then proceeded to give me excellent ideas (as always) as to the direction it should take.
> 
> In other news, I am so shit at sticking to my timeline haha. This story was planned to be 28 chs total. I am currently at ch 29 and probably only ½ way through the plot D: haha Hope you guys don't mind ...


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Jon's head. I thought it was about time we had a POV chapter from him... I hope you like it!!
> 
> As always eternal thanks to my amazing muse @theonsfavouritetoy, who scripted most of the New Years 'activities' for me when I was out of ideas.

The last few days had passed in a blur. Everything felt like it was moving so quickly. Jon was feeling things - thinking things - he'd never thought he'd get to have. It scared him … and thrilled him.  
'Will you just choose one?' Arya huffed from where she was lying across his bed, head hanging off the edge so she was regarding him upside down as he tried on and then discarded one shirt after another.  
'I really doubt squid boy cares about the difference between black, black with a grey stripe and whatever that shiny black is supposed to be, anyway. He's more interested in what's under your shirt.' With that she wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, a move that looked even more ridiculous upside down.  
'What would you know,' Jon huffed at her, feeling his face heat and seeing his markings swirl across his arms the way they always did when he thought of Theon like that. Damned animal spirit. Damned ceremony. Sometimes he thought the bloody thing inside him was just as into Theon as he was. It didn't need to let the whole world know how he felt all the time, at any rate.  
The thought of being into Theon derailed him for a moment and his hands stilled as he remembered back to the night before, coming hard - always so hard - with Theon's body wrapped around his. Wishing desperately for skin on skin, for the removal of the barriers that were still between them, but not wanting to push the other man further than he was ready for.

That thought made the anger swirl through him - as it always did - black and bitter like a toxic bile. He had never hated the way he hated Ramsey Bolton for what he had done to Theon. He would destroy that man - rip him limb from limb. He would make him pay a thousand times over for the pain and damage he'd inflicted on Theon. He just needed one chance - one slip up to give him the justification. He clenched his teeth at the thought and savage joy ran through him, dark and sweet, at the thought of the vengeance he would extract.  
'Jon!' Arya's voice broke into his thoughts and he refocussed on the mirror in front of his face with a start of surprise. His teeth were bared and the markings around his eyes and arms were dark and jagged, menacing. The look in his eyes was cold and hard. He pushed it away, the thoughts and the anger, and smoothed his face, trying to force his wolf to calm. It hated the threat to Theon as well. It hated not being able to attack, defend its - he stopped that thought as well before it could form and turned to his sister.  
'Thanks for choosing to return to my presence,' she said, rolling over and eyeing him with completely un-concealed concern. Then she forced a smile onto her face and shuffled off the bed, muttering, 'weirdo,' loud enough that Jon knew he was supposed to hear.  
'We're rowing to the castle in five minutes. Unless you want to swim, pick a damned shirt and come up stairs.'  
He poked his tongue out at the closed door and pulled a tight black henley over his head. He knew Theon would like the way it clung to his chest and arms. Normally he tried to underplay his body, not liking the extra attention it brought, but he found himself wanting to impress Theon … he wondered what the other man would be wearing and felt a stir of interest, a flicker of heat pooling in his groin. He loved to watch Theon's body as he moved. The other man was slim - to the point of being unhealthy when they'd first met, though he seemed to be eating more now - and his movements were almost graceful. There was a hesitancy to his actions that spoke to Jon's wolf of a deer taking a tentative step into the clearing - of prey scenting for a predator - but that was fading too. He stood straighter now, his shoulders were squarer … and when he _smiled_. Jon felt a completely different kind of warmth pool in his chest as he remembered Theon's smile. The one that he hardly ever shared with the world, the big, wide happy one that showed all his teeth. The one he gave to Jon.

'Jon Snow! I swear you have five bloody seconds to get up here!' came his sister's voice from the decks above and Jon started, then shoved his wand into his pocket, grabbed his fur-lined coat and dashed up the stairs. He looked over the railing to see Arya climbing swiftly down the ladder, hand over hand, and Robb, Gendry, Ygritte and Tormund already in the boat below.  
Robb looked up to see him leaning over the edge and rolled his eyes good naturedly. 'You and your bloody hair Snow. You know if you didn't style each curl individually, you'd be ready a lot quicker.'  
The stinging hex that Jon fired down into the boat as he began to climb met its mark and he heard a yelp from Robb.   
'I'll get you back for that,' Robb said, rubbing his arm, as Jon took his seat and Gendry and Tormund began to row.  
'Not tonight you won't,' Jon said. 'You need to be on your best behaviour for _Talisa_ after all. You promised her a good evening didn't you? Wouldn't want her to think you're just a cheeky brat after you finally got your chance to impress her.'  
It was a low blow. Robb went pale and began to look ill again, as he had ever since the Healer had agreed to come to their New Years party two days earlier.  
Jon smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder. 'You'll be fine. She clearly already likes you or she would never have agreed to come.'  
'Either that,' interjected Gendry, 'or she just got so worn down by your constant harassment that she finally said yes to get you off her case.'  
Robb's face, which had perked up at Jon's comment, fell again at Gendry's. He looked so pitiful that everyone in the boat began to take it in turns to reassure him that the night would go well.

\-----

As they crunched their way up the snow-lined path to the castle, Jon squinted to make out the doors to the great entrance hall. His eyesight was much better than a normal person's and even in the low light, he spotted Theon standing in the doorway, long before the other man could see him. He could see Theon rubbing his right hand over his mangled left hand, the way he did when he was anxious or nervous. The sight threatened to spike Jon's anger from earlier, but he pushed that away. He didn't want to be in that sort of mood with Theon. He wanted them both to have a good time. Unfortunately in the void that anger left came his own hefty dose of nerves. He didn't know why the other man affected him so - he didn’t know why the feeling had remained after they'd first kissed … and done … other things.  
No one else got to him like Theon did, even from the very beginning. The rest of the world, he could put his indifferent, arrogant mask on, and it was enough to keep them away. But Theon … Theon got under his skin. His wolf had noticed him from the beginning, whining softly at the look of barely hidden pain and fear that lurked inside of Theon's eyes. Maybe it was something to do with that … maybe seeing Theon's damage made it easier for him to admit his own. Sometimes he felt like he could tell Theon things he'd barely admitted to himself. He felt … when he was with Theon he felt safe. And he wanted more than anything to be able to be that safe harbour for Theon in turn.

When they got closer to the castle, Theon straightened, projecting a confidence that he may or may not have been feeling. Jon was starting to see it as a defence mechanism the other man held. Except sometimes it was unfeigned. Sometimes there were these moments when everything else fell away and there was this blaze of spirit and fun inside Theon so bright that Jon wondered how it had ever been dimmed.   
Then they were at the castle and Theon was in front of him. Jon leaned in for a kiss, ignoring the catcalls from the others as Theon's lips met his. He fought against the urge to deepen it, to back the other man against a pillar and lick into his mouth, grinding against him until they both found completion. Every time he was with Theon he wanted more of him. He felt Theon nip lightly at his lip and Jon let out a low moan at the sensation. In the next moment he felt a light whack on the back of his head as Robb walked with the others past him and into the castle. He broke off the kiss with a pang of disappointment, looking into Theon's eyes and seeing the cloud of arousal he was starting to suspect had been in Theon's eyes when he looked at Jon for _months_. He had to force himself not to lean back in and capture the other man's mouth again. Instead he reached out for Theon's hand, pretending not to notice the slight stiffness that came into Theon's posture when it was the left that he took, and ran his thumb lightly over the leather glove Theon always wore over his injury.

'Hi,' he murmured, aware that his voice was huskier than normal.  
'Hi, yourself,' Theon said back, a small smile coming to his face.  
'Shall we?' Jon said, indicating the entrance that the others had all disappeared into with a tilt of his head. Theon nodded and they walked hand in hand through the large doors, which closed softly behind them.  
'Who else is coming tonight?' Jon asked, as they walked through the corridors, only idly curious.  
'Tarly, Gilly. Pod of course. Uh - I think Shireen, Arya's friend. Um I think that's it. I set up the room earlier. Most of them are probably already up there. Robb said he only wanted a small thing?'  
'Yeah, that sounds great,' Jon said, feeling himself relax further now that he knew who would be present. None of those people had ever shown signs of wanting to play around with him. Then he remembered who else was coming. 'Robb's managed to get the Healer to agree to come,' he said, knowing Theon's reaction would be worthwhile.

Theon turned to him, surprise written across his face. 'Seriously? Thank the gods. Maybe now he can shut up about her for five seconds.' But his tone was teasing.  
'Funny,' Jon said. 'He made a similar comment to me about you when he heard we'd got together …' His light tone trailed off at those words. They hadn't really discussed whether they were 'together' in an official sense, or what this thing was between them and where it was going. He knew what he wanted out of it - that was becoming more and more clear every day - but he didn't know if Theon felt the same way or whether for him, it was less serious. And he didn't really know how to ask … he'd spent most of his teenage years trying to extract himself from unwanted relationships, not find out if someone actually did want to be in one with him. The idea of just asking Theon what was happening made panicked nerves flicker through him. Theon had been through so much. Jon didn't want to push him into things he didn't want or wasn’t ready for. He wouldn't make any assumption until Theon was ready to tell him, himself what he wanted.

Before he knew it, they were at the blank wall that he recognised as the entry to the Room of Requirement. Jon eyed the tapestry of Aerys the Mad that hung on the wall opposite as Theon strode back and forth in front of the empty space. The creepy eyes of the old wizard seemed to be fixed on him. As they stepped through the door that had materialised out of the stone, Jon looked around, making a small sound of impressed surprise. Though Theon had told him the room changed to suit the requirements of the requestor, he hadn’t really understood what that meant before now. The space he remembered from the challenge after party just didn’t exist. Now he was stepping into a cozy lounge with a crackling fireplace, comfy armchairs and couches arranged in a large semi-circle and a table in the middle laden with food and drinks. It looked friendly and comfortable and he felt the last of his nerves fade away as he stepped inside. There was quiet music playing in the background and twinkling lights on the ceiling spelling out things like _Happy New Year_ and _Many Joyous Returns_ and _Don't make promises you won't uphold_. He eyed the last one sideways, but it dissolved and reformed to read _May all your dreams come true_.

Theon had been right, the others were all inside, even Talisa, standing by the fire, warming herself. Robb was already making a bee-line for her, a wide smile breaking out across his face. Jon and Theon headed for a three-seater couch, Jon collecting a glass of firewhisky and Theon a glass of dornish red. They sat down side by side, Jon putting a comfortable arm behind Theon's shoulders, brushing his thumb lightly against Theon's arm. It was so nice sitting like this, friends and family around them, and just being relaxed, not having to worry about what he said or what he did.  
Arya's voice interrupted his thoughts, 'There's a whole cupboard of games here!'  
He looked over his shoulder to see she had indeed opened a large cupboard in which stood all number of party games, neatly labelled. Shireen was at her shoulder, peering in.  
'Look, here's that twister game, you know where you have to touch each colour, but if you miss one it turns you that colour for the rest of the night.' She held up a set of cards, 'Strip poker, the one where it vanishes your clothes one by one.'   
'Arya,' Robb said, interrupting her. 'No one wants to play party games.'  
She ignored him completely as she continued to pull items out and hand them to Shireen. 'Ohh and look, a shrunken cupboard. It has seven minutes of heaven written on it. I bet if we expanded that out -'  
'Arya,' Robb said again. 'We’re not playing party games.' The look on his face was a mix between being interested and trying to appear mature and adult in front of Talisa. 

Arya pulled another item out and held it up as she turned around to the others, face shining with mischief. They could all clearly see the label written across the bottle. _Veritaserum_.  
'Let's play Truth or Dare,' Arya said into the suddenly silent room, her face alight with glee.  
'Yes!' Gendry chimed in, 'Brilliant.'  
A few others made interested noises, but Jon felt Theon stiffen beside him.  
'What are the rules?' he asked warily.  
Arya turned to him, sensing that if he went along with it, it would most likely happen.

'We all take a drop of veritaserum,' she said eagerly, then she squinted down at the bottle. 'Says here each drop lasts one hour. That should be plenty. Then you get a truth or dare. If you choose truth you won't be able to lie, but I've played this before. You can choose not to say anything at all. If you do that, you have to do a dare after all.'  
She looked at him, face pleading for him to agree.  
'What happens if you forfeit the dare?' he asked, aware that Theon still hadn't relaxed beside him.  
Arya shrugged, 'You're out of the game.'  
Jon pressed further, 'So no one has to do anything they really don't want to do?'  
Arya made a face at him. 'Course not. This is supposed to be fun, not torture. Though if I know old bull-head over here,' she said, gesturing to Gendry with a smirk, 'He'll take any torture just to win, won't you.'  
'Damn-straight,' Gendry said. 'You're going down horse-face.'

Jon turned his head to look at Theon as the other two bickered good-naturedly. He rubbed his thumb against Theon's arm again and raised an eyebrow, not saying anything, just trying to let the other man know he'd go along with whatever Theon decided. He could only imagine the reasons that Theon was hesitant to take a potion that could make him do or say something he didn’t want to. He felt his anger from earlier stir again as those reasons - and the face behind them - flickered through his mind. But he kept his face calm as he met Theon's gaze steadily.  
He could see the emotions flicking across Theon's face as he debated with himself. Jon gave him a small smile, trying to project calm and trust. When Theon's gaze firmed and he gave a small nod saying, 'Sounds like fun,' Jon's heart swelled in his chest. He could only imagine what it took for Theon to be able to trust him - trust them all - in that way.

Arya sensed she'd got what she needed and cheered, tilting the bottle from side to side as she looked around the room.   
'Let's do this,' she said eagerly. As everyone moved into the big armchairs and couches that were sprawled around the circle Jon leaned in to Theon to speak quietly. 'You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable, no one will care.'  
Theon shook his head. 'I want to be a part of it. I'm sick of being on the outside of everything because of what happened to me.' Jon nodded his understanding and pressed a quick kiss to Theon's temple. Theon blushed at the touch and looked away, but he looked pleased at the gesture.

Arya was moving around the circle. One by one, everyone opened their mouths and she dripped a single drop of the potion on their tongues. When she came to Jon, he couldn't even taste the drop of wetness that fell on his tongue. A moment later, she was standing in front of Theon. He looked up at her with his mouth closed, but she didn't tease him the way she would have if it was someone else, she just waited quietly. Finally Theon opened his mouth and Arya let a single drop go. Theon swallowed and gave Jon a shaky smile. Jon smiled back. When Arya came to Gendry she held the bottle longer than the others and three drops fell into his mouth.  
'Oops,' she said, with the most insincere voice Jon had ever heard. 'I slipped. I guess you'll have to watch what you say for a little longer than the rest of us,' she smirked down at him.  
Gendry glared at her, but there was no heat in it. It was just another one in the long line of pranks they played against each other. Jon knew he would get her back soon enough.

Finally Arya swallowed a drop herself and took her seat. 'Right, we need to test it first. Go around the circle and try and lie about your name when I ask you.' She looked at Tormund first, 'What's your name?' The big man opened his mouth and Jon could see the conflict on his face as he struggled to push a word from his mouth. Finally he sighed and said, 'Tormund' and Arya moved on. When it came Jon's turn to lie, he wanted to say Robb, but it was as though something was stopping his tongue. Something wanted to _push_ the correct answer from his mouth. Finally, defeated, he said, 'Jon.'  
'Right,' said Arya, when everyone had been tested, 'It was my idea so I'll go first.' Her gaze fixed on Gendry with a smirk and he narrowed his eyes at her.  
'Gendry, truth or dare?' she asked.  
'Truth,' he said, immediately. She grinned, obviously hoping for that answer, 'What haven't you done with Pod that you're too embarrassed to ask for?' There were laughs and shocked gasps from around the room as she went in for the kill from the outset.  
Gendry's face reddened and he didn't meet anyone's eyes, but he chose to answer. 'I really want to rim him. Like just eat him out. Like -'  
'That's enough,' Arya said with a snort of laughter. 'Your turn to ask.'  
Gendry's face was still red but he had a good natured grin on his face as he glanced up at Pod beside him and saw the sudden interest in the other man's eyes. He looked back across the circle at Arya and mouthed ' _thank you_ ' at her, before turning to Sam and asking, 'Truth or Dare?'

Sam gulped audibly, glancing around and then said, 'Dare.'  
Gendry smiled, and there was a hint of Arya's mischief in it. 'I dare you to kiss the person you're most attracted to.'  
Sam's eyes widened and he gulped again. He looked down at his hands, then back up and around at the room, eyes meeting Gilly's then skittering away. Then he took a deep breath and stood, taking two shuffling steps across to where Gilly sat and stooping down quickly. He pressed a brief kiss to her cheek and then backed away and slumped down into his seat, cheeks flaming red. There were cheers and laughter around the circle as people raised their glasses to them both. Gilly had raised one hand to cup her cheek and was looking across at Sam with a shy smile on her face.

'Ask someone!' came the shout and Sam turned to Ygritte, who had spoken.  
'Truth or dare,' he asked.  
'Truth,' Ygritte said, gaze meeting his confidently.  
Sam hesitated a moment, looking at her with his head cocked to one side, and then he said, 'What are you most afraid of?'  
Ygritte's eyes widened at the question and for a moment it looked like she was going to forfeit and choose a dare instead, but then she broke his gaze and looked down into her drink, 'Ending up alone for the rest of my life,' she confessed. Jon felt a pang at those words. What had been between them had been so long ago and it hadn't been right for either of them - they were just too different. But that didn't mean he didn't wish her happiness.

After a second Ygritte gathered herself and turned to Tomund with a wicked smile. 'Truth or Dare.'  
'Truth,' he said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.  
'Is there any fact to that bullshit story that you wintered with a she bear and -' she made a lewd gesture, which everyone in the room understood. All eyes turned back to Tormund, and a broad grin spread across his face.  
'Every word of it is true. Shella had strength to rival no woman … that is until I met the blonde giantess at the challenge. Ah Brienne. She'll be mine yet.' He looked around the circle to see eyes wide in shock and mouths open and gave a hearty laugh.

'Speakin' 'a giants. Podrick.'  
Pod's eyes widened further and Gendry began to shake his head. The words, 'I wouldn't -' left his mouth before Pod squeaked, 'Dare.'  
'Go on then,' Tormund said, one bushy eyebrow raised. 'Show us this mighty spear your boy won't stop bleating about.'  
Jon looked around the circle with a laugh. Pod's face was blank for a moment and everyone stared, wondering what he would choose to do. Then he stood, reaching for his belt. Jon's eyes were drawn to him, despite himself and beside him, he could see Theon doing the same. Pod hesitated, a hint of a grin on his face and Robb catcalled him, 'Gen's all talk. I knew it!'

As Pod dropped his pants to his knees, Gendry reached over and covered Arya's eyes, to her screech of protest. There was a murmur of amazement around the room at the sight of the impressive view in front of them.  
'Donnerwetter,' Jon heard Theon murmur under his breath and he glanced across to see Theon's eyes glued to the sight. He felt a flash of something spike through him - not jealousy … maybe envy, that Pod could be so confident in his body and he and Gendry have such an open relationship that they were comfortable with the action.  
Gendry was grinning broadly now, a smug smirk on his face that said, _told you_ to everyone in the room as Pod tucked himself back into his pants and sat back on the couch, lifting his drink to his lips.

Theon glanced across at Jon and blushed to know the other man had caught him watching. Theon leaned in to him. 'You have to admit, it _is_ impressive. And it's not like I have much to compare it to.' Then he broke off and frowned. 'I didn’t mean -'  
'It's okay,' Jon said, smiling at him to show he hadn’t taken offence. But part of him wondered if taking it slow wasn't maybe taking it _too_ slow … His thoughts were interrupted as Pod looked across at Robb with a challenge in his eyes.  
'Truth,' Robb said in response.

Podrick smiled a smile that showed he had heard Robb's comment and wanted to pay him back for it. 'How many notches on your bedpost, Stark?'  
Unaccountably Robb blushed and looked down at his hands. Jon looked at him, curiously. He never really talked about that sort of thing with his brother, mainly because he wanted to avoid the subject of his own 'conquests.' Jon noticed Talisa was watching him curiously as well, a calm expression on her face.  
Robb took a deep breath and then mumbled, 'None,' into his hands. This time the murmurs around the room were of shock as people eyed him sideways. Even Jon was stunned. Surely not.  
Then Robb raised his eyes, darting a glance at Talisa before looking back at Pod. 'I want to my first time to be with the right woman. Someone who's special to me.'  
Talisa's eyes widened fractionally and a soft look came on to her face. Robb darted another glance at her, before looking around the circle.

'Right. Snow. You've gotten off lightly. How long have you been into Greyjoy here?'  
Jon hissed in a breath and felt Theon still beside him, before turning to look at him. Across his face was curiosity, tinged with apprehension.  
'Define 'into',' he managed to get out, biting back on the words that the veritaserum wanted to spill from his mouth.  
Robb grinned and it was wolfish. 'How long have you been fantasising about Theon, Jon?'  
Jon closed his eyes in a brief prayer. He'd been dosed with veritaserum once before and had been unable to stop himself from answering every detail of the questions he'd been asked. He thought for a second about forfeiting for a dare, but he didn't want to hurt Theon's feelings. There was no way he would understand why Jon didn’t want to answer unless he did.  
He opened his mouth and began to speak, looking only at Theon, thinking that the words would be less embarrassing if he pretended he was speaking just to him.  
'I noticed him when we first came arrived at Hogwarts and did that display for the school. He was watching me in this way that I could just _feel_ and then in class I could always tell when he was looking at me. And then he was hurt and I just wanted to rip apart the person who'd done it. Does that count as a fantasy? I don't think so. I think the first time I fantasised about him was probably that time on the boat, right after they announced the champions. We had that party and Theon climbed up into the rigging. He looked like a water sprite come to life, so graceful and sleek and daring. I just wanted him, like I'd never wanted anyone before in my life. I started thinking about him when I was alone, when I was just on the edge of sleep. But I never did anything about it. Never until that time we flew together, and he was pressed up against me and his hands were on me and I could feel him behind me. And after that I was in the shower and I couldn't help myself anymore. He was all I could think about as I -'

'That's enough!' said Robb, laughter in his voice. 'I think you've answered the question, Jon. You're just as gone on him as he is on you, clearly.'  
Jon forced himself to stop speaking, panting for breath. There was silence around the room. Theon's eyes were wide and his mouth was partially open as he gaped in reaction to what Jon had said.  
Someone cleared their throat awkwardly and Jon forced his eyes away from Theon, looking around the circle wildly,  
'Talisa,' he said, and Robb's eyes narrowed.  
The Healer looked at him, one smooth eyebrow raised. Then she said, quite clearly, 'Truth.'  
There was a shocked intake of breath as all eyes turned back to Jon, who was desperate to move past his own babbled confession.  
'Have you ever had inappropriate thoughts about a student?' he asked, and all eyes immediately turned back to the young Healer. She smiled enigmatically, 'Not one of my students, no,' she said calmly. Jon smiled at her in turn. Of course a Healer would be trained to know how to get around the truth telling properties of veritaserum.

He sat back in his seat again, bringing the side of his body back into contact with Theon, who was still looking a little dazed at the confession he had heard. But he leaned in to whisper softly in Jon's ear, 'I got off over you the very first night you arrived.'  
Jon felt a shiver of heat run through him at those words and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath and not let himself get hard in a circle of his friends and family. When he opened his eyes again, he could see his own want reflected in Theon's face. He wondered idly if it was bad form to leave a New Year's party before the New Year had officially arrived.

 

After a while, the game dissolved as people found one by one that their words were their own again. They moved into groups of twos and threes, relaxing and talking, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable room. Arya hung around near Gendry and Jon could hear her trying to prod at him with questions to take advantage of him still being under the influence of the veritaserum while everyone else's had faded. Theon moved around the room, sometimes with Jon and sometimes with others and seemed to be having a good time. He looked relaxed and comfortable, talking and laughing with one person or another. Jon was content to sit by the fire and watch him. Every now and again their eyes met and the look was full of promise. Jon wondered if Theon was still thinking of what he had said earlier. He couldn't bring himself to regret it. He wasn't good with words - he wasn't good with talking about what he felt or what he wanted. He thought he was probably happy Theon now knew those things, even if he never would have volunteered them otherwise.

The time passed quickly and eventually Robb spoke up loudly enough that all the conversations stopped and everyone turned to him. 'Must be getting on,' he said, glancing around the room and not seeing a clock anywhere. He pulled his wand out and muttered, _'tempus'_. A glowing clock face sprung up in front of him, showing it was ten minutes until the new year. They all gathered around, a sense of excitement in the air.  
'We should make promises,' Gilly said into the strangely quiet room. A few people looked across at her and she flushed slightly but spoke again in her soft voice. 'It's something I like to do each year, make a promise to do something that's important to me.'  
Jon liked the idea and it seemed most of the others did too. They formed a loose circle and all eyes turned to Gilly. She bit her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, and then spoke, 'This year I-' she hesitated, glancing at Sam, across the circle from her, then took in a deeper breath and continued. 'I want to believe I deserve good things.'  
Arya was standing next to her and she had no hesitation in speaking next, 'This year I want to petition the faceless men.' Jon opened his mouth to object and saw Robb doing the same across the circle, but the next person was already talking.  
Tormund's voice was a deep rumble, 'This year I won't rest until the woman I love loves me back.'  
Then Sam, 'This year I'll … be braver.'  
Robb, 'This year I'll put others ahead of myself.'  
Gendry, 'This year I'll hold on to what's mine.' The look he directed at Podrick next to him was smouldering.   
Pod bit his lip before speaking, 'This year, I'll do whatever I need to, to stay this happy.' The love that flared between the two of them was clearly visible to everyone in the room.

Talisa's promise raised everyone's eyebrows, 'This year I'll take a chance.'  
Shireen, 'This year I'll stand up for myself.'  
Theon paused for a moment before speaking, the look on his face uncertain, then he looked across the circle at Jon and squared his shoulders, 'This year, I'll remember who I am.' Jon nodded at him with a small, warm smile, pride swelling in his chest.  
Ygritte, 'This year, I'll look forward, not back.'

Finally it was Jon's turn to speak and he looked around the circle for a moment, seeing old friends and new, all faces turned to his, waiting to hear what was important to him. 'This year … I'll let myself be me.' The smile across the circle from Theon was blinding and Jon knew that more than anyone, Theon knew what he meant by those words.

As Jon's words faded on the air, Robb's ghostly clock flared brighter above it, ticking down the final moments of the year.

'Ten … nine …' As the countdown began around the room, people started moving closer together. Jon noted absently out of the corner of his eye that Robb and Talisa had moved away from the others and a part of him was happy for his brother. But the rest of his attention was focussed on Theon, standing before him, lips parted and eyes fixed on Jon.

'Eight … seven …' He took in every detail of Theon's face, this moment feeling somehow significant. Momentous. The start of a New Year. Jon couldn't help but feel that maybe if they were together in this moment, shared the turning of the calendar together, that it could be the beginning of a commitment to something more. He reached out to take both of Theon's hands in his, pulling them closer together.

'Six … five …' He leaned closer to Theon, so that their noses nearly brushed together. He wanted the other man to be all he saw as the clock changed and he wanted - selfishly maybe - to be all Theon saw as well. He felt Theon's fingers tighten on his and heard his breath hitch at Jon's nearness.

'Four …' He brushed his thumbs lightly across Theon's hands and felt him shudder under the touch. Theon's gaze was still on his and the look in his eyes was so intense, so open. Jon wished he could read it … understand what it meant. He'd never learned to trust himself when it came to things like that.

'Three …' Theon's tongue darted across his lips in a quick, unconscious gesture and Jon's gaze followed it. When he looked back into Theon's eyes, they were dark with his want. Jon felt his own need surge in answer. It had been building all night. He couldn't hold it back. He didn't want to.

'Two …' They were just a hairsbreadth apart now. Jon could feel Theon's breath against his mouth. Feel the thrumming tension in his whole body, his whole being, as he yearned towards Jon. The energy between them was electric. Jon felt sure that Theon felt the pull just as strongly as he did. He could see it written all across the other man's body.

'One …' Jon opened his mouth to say the words that had been hovering on his tongue for the last few days, but before he could get out more than, 'I-' the charm hit midnight and fireworks exploded through the room, the tiny lights creating flashes of colour and sound.  
'Happy New Year,' came the cheer around the small space and then Theon's lips met his and anything Jon had planned to say disappeared. 

The kiss was open mouthed, Theon's tongue immediately sliding into Jon's mouth. He welcomed the slick smoothness against his own, dropping Theon's hands to bring his own up to cup the back of Theon's neck, and twine his fingers through Theon's hair. He stepped closer, or Theon did, so that they were plastered against each other. He could feel the hot hard length of Theon's body against him - could feel the press of the other man's arousal against his hip - and still it wasn't enough. Theon's hands were on his waist now, pulling their bodies together as Jon deepened the kiss, their tongues moving back and forth against each other as they kissed and licked and bit against each other's skin. Jon had lost track of where he was, who was there. He didn't care. All that mattered was Theon, the touch of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Heat was flooding through him and he moaned into Theon's mouth, pressing against him as the kiss turned hotter, deeper.

'Get a room, you two,' a voice called out, and it was a moment before it broke through the haze that had overcome the two of them. Jon didn't have it in him to feel embarrassed when he glanced across to see Ygritte looking at him with a knowing smile. He just turned back to Theon and leaned in to whisper in his ear in a rasping voice, 'Do you want to get out of here?'  
Theon didn’t respond, just nodded against Jon's cheek. The lure of his neck so close to Jon's lips was impossible to resist and Jon bent his head a touch to suck lightly at the skin there. Theon shuddered under his touch, hands spasming on Jon's hips and pulling him closer again.  
'Where?' Jon whispered, pulling his mouth back up to Theon's ear for a moment and nipping his lobe gently between his teeth as he breathed his question.  
'My room,' Theon replied, sounding wrecked. Jon bent his head to suck harder at Theon's neck this time, wanting to leave a mark, wanting to move him closer to the edge before they needed to separate.

Theon made an incoherent sound and pushed at Jon to move back. Jon stilled immediately, raising his head to look into Theon's eyes in concern. But all he saw was desire and need.  
'Let's _go_ ,' Theon said, breaking away completely and taking a step towards the door. Jon nodded and followed him.  
'Bye Jon, Bye Theon,' called a mocking voice from behind them, followed by laughter from more than one person. They both flushed but neither halted their pace.  
'Night everyone,' Jon called back over his shoulder as they moved out the door. 'Happy New Year.' 

They made their way from the seventh floor down and across to Gryffindor tower as quickly as they could. Once Jon pulled Theon in for another quick kiss and ended up pushed against a stone pillar with Theon's body a line of heat against him. He was tempted, so tempted, to keep the heat and the movement and the pleasure going the way they had every other time before now. But tonight he wanted something more, something different. It was a New Year after all. It was time to take another step forward. And he didn’t want to take that step in some draughty old corridor. He kissed Theon again and again as he pushed him gently away, unable to stop himself for going back for more. Eventually they reached the portrait hole and climbed in, having to rouse Fat Walda from her sleep so Theon could give her the password. She flounced at them with a huff in her voluminous layers of nightdresses, but seemed to think sleep would be a preferable option to staying awake to berate them.

Jon found himself feeling unaccountably shy as they stepped through the portrait hole and into the empty and silent Gryffindor common room. He knew Theon's room would be empty. They would have the space to themselves the entire night. Theon seemed to be reflecting his thoughts. His eyes were dark as he glanced over his shoulder at Jon in the dim light, pulling him by his hand towards the staircase.

The room was warm when they entered it and Theon kicked his shoes off, moving towards the bed. He pulled his jumper over his head and paused in his shirt and pants, with his hands on his belt buckle, looking suddenly at a loss. Jon moved forward a step, pushing his own shoes off as he did so. He stood in front of Theon, putting one hand over his, to stop his movement. Then he leaned in for a kiss, this time soft and sweet, before putting gentle pressure on Theon's shoulder to push him backwards onto the bed. Theon's eyes widened slightly, but he moved backwards until he was lying against the pillows at the headboard. Jon knelt on the bed and pulled out his wand, spelling the curtains closed and setting tiny points of light to flicker at the ceiling. Then he opened the drawer at the side of Theon's bed and placed his wand in side, not missing the hint of tension that left Theon's shoulders, as it did whenever he put his wand clearly out of reach when they were together.

Jon moved up the bed towards Theon, laying beside him and stroking one hand down his face.  
'Can we - can I undress you?' he whispered, looking into Theon's face in the dim light. 'I want to touch you this time. All of you.' Theon's breath caught but he nodded his consent. Jon smiled and leaned in for another kiss. He made his way from the side of Theon's mouth, down his neck, breathing him in. The other man's hands came up to fist at his shirt, pulling it up his stomach. He knelt back up for a moment to pull it up and over his head.  
'Wahnsinn,' Theon whispered. 'How are you even real?' Then his hands came up to trace Jon's chest, feather light touches over his shoulders and down the front of his body. Jon hissed and felt heat throb through him as one of Theon's hands grazed his nipple. Theon's eyes darted back up to his and he did it again, more confident this time. Jon moaned lightly. 'I'm supposed to be undressing you,' he chided gently, reaching to capture Theon's injured hand in his own. He undid the laces of the glove as Theon stilled beside him, then cocked an eyebrow at him for permission to remove it. Theon hesitated for a moment and then nodded, taking a deep breath. Jon peeled the leather back to reveal the scarred palm, misshapen where fingers were missing. He rubbed his thumb gently over it, then brought Theon's hand up to his face, meeting the other man's eyes as he pressed a kiss against his skin. Theon let out a sound that was half sob and Jon brought the other man's hand back to his chest, urging Theon to continue touching him.

He moved his hands to the buttons of Theon's shirt, undoing the top one, grazing his fingertips over the hint of skin underneath. Theon's movements stopped and Jon's eyes darted up to check his reaction again. He was reassured by the smouldering intensity he saw in Theon's face. He moved his hands down to the next one, pulling the shirt further open as he undid each button. He touched every bit of skin he could see, light, gentle touches, mapping out the body he wanted to know better than his own.

Theon shivered under his touch, body tight with anticipation. Jon's fingers grazed over his nipples in turn and Theon jolted, letting out a low cry at the sensation. Jon reached the last button and drew the shirt open, urging Theon up for a moment, so he could draw it from his shoulders. Then he returned his hands to the expanse of skin, rubbing and stroking, bending his head to kiss and lick the skin under his mouth. Theon's breath was coming faster and he was moving under Jon's touch, hands in his hair, urging him lower. Jon reached his belt and nipped at the sensitive skin there. Theon jumped and shuddered under him. Jon put his hands on the belt buckle and looked back up at Theon in the dim light, a question in his eyes.  
'Yes,' Theon answered without hesitation.

He undid the buckle and then the button and zip on the pants, finding his own hands were trembling slightly now. He took a deep breath to steady himself and then urged Theon's hips up for a moment so he could pull his pants all the way off, throwing them to the foot of the bed. Theon lay before him in just a part of tight black briefs, relaxed against the cushions, yet with a tense anticipation coiling every line of his body. Jon took in the sight of him, drinking in every graceful line, every sinewy muscle.  
'You're beautiful,' he breathed, reaching out to trail his fingers down Theon's hard stomach. He paused at the fabric of his briefs, unsure, now that the moment had come, whether he should continue. Being naked was different. What if he was no good at whatever they did next? What if he didn’t make it good for Theon?

The man below him seemed to sense his hesitation. He smiled up at Jon.   
'You know it's really not fair for you to be half dressed and me to be almost naked.' He arched an eyebrow playfully. 'Want to show me something more impressive than we’ve already seen tonight?'  
Jon's mouth was suddenly dry as he nodded his head. Yes he wanted to. More than anything he wanted to be naked with Theon right now, skin on skin, nothing between them.  
He moved back to his knees again, trembling fingers fumbling with his own button and zip, pulling jeans and briefs down together, over his hard cock, which sprung up against his stomach, aching and leaking. He kicked them off and knelt before Theon, biting his lip as he met the other man's eyes. Theon only held his gaze for a moment before raking his eyes down Jon's chest and over his throbbing cock. He seemed to like what he saw because he licked his lips and shimmied out of his own briefs, reaching up for Jon. 

Jon moved to put one leg over Theon, straddling him before he leaned down, bringing their bodies together inch by agonising inch. Theon was hot underneath him, hands running over his shoulders and down his back as he urged Jon down onto himself. Jon moaned at the silken smoothness of so much skin against his and then they were kissing, tongues entwining as well, moving back and forth against each other. Jon couldn't help but grind down against the slick hardness of Theon's cock against his. Theon moaned in response and the sound helped to break his focus. He pulled back, so he was an inch away from Theon's face, looking down into his eyes.  
'I want to … can I taste you?' he asked, voice husky and deep.  
Theon's nod was immediate as he bit at his lip. Jon pressed in for another kiss, searing hot and full of promise. Then he kissed Theon's chin and neck and chest. Licking over one nipple and then the other as he shuffled down the bed. Theon was so responsive under his touch, panting cries coming from above him. When he reached Theon's hip, he stopped, lying between the other man's legs, one elbow propping him up as he splayed his hand out over Theon's tight abs.

He looked down at the evidence of the other man's arousal lying hard against his stomach, just inches away from his hand. It was the first time he'd seen another man's cock up close. It was not as long as his, but thicker, and the head was circumcised. He stroked a curious finger down it, wondering if the skin felt any different to his own. Theon jolted and cried out as he rubbed the soft skin. He felt his own breath catch at the sound and the movement and reached out to grip Theon's cock, rubbing softly up and down the shaft. Theon's hips jerked and one hand came down to knot in Jon's dark curls.  
'Fuck,' Theon moaned, as Jon rubbed up and down his shaft again. 'C- can you spit. On it?' Theon gasped as Jon moved again. Jon hesitated, wondering if he should try what he wanted to try. He glanced up again at Theon, whose gaze was fixed on him, open and trusting. Jon bent his head and _licked_ a long, wet stripe up Theon's cock.  
'Shitting, fucking _Gods_ ,' Theon moaned above him. 'Do that again. Please.'

Jon bent his head to lick again and again until Theon's cock was slick and his hand moved smoothly up and down the other man's length. He saw liquid oozing from the end and moved his mouth to cover it, tasting the salty tang of Theon's pre-come in his mouth. The taste had his own cock throbbing in turn and he shifted slightly so it was trapped between him and the mattress, the friction of his movements as he rubbed up and down Theon's cock just enough pressure to feel incredible. Theon's hand was still in Jon's hair and he guided Jon's head to cover his cock again. Jon let more of it into his mouth this time, swallowing down his shaft and sucking back with a light pressure, as he squeezed at the bottom of the other man's cock.  
Theon punched out a moan above him and writhed under his mouth, panting incoherent sounds.  
'Fuck, Jon. So good. Fuck fuck fuck.'  
Jon sucked him down again, picking up a faltering rhythm with his hand and mouth that seemed to be taking Theon right to the edge. He rocked against the bed slightly as he did so, desperate to release some of the burning tension that the sight and sounds of Theon in ecstasy was building in him. 

Theon's hand was in his hair, urging him faster, the grip just shy of painful, but Jon found that he liked it. He liked the sensation of Theon being in charge, showing Jon what he liked and how he wanted it. He sucked the other man down deeper and faster, fisting his own hand faster on Theon's slick, throbbing cock.  
'Jon. Jon. Gods, Jon,' Theon moaned. 'Fuck - ah - I'm going to come. Fuck.' He pulled at Jon's hair, as though wanting to warn him to stop but Jon was too far gone in the sounds and sensations and his own growing release as he moved against the sheets. He sucked down harder, swirling his tongue and moaning against the feeling of Theon's cock in his mouth. Then Theon was tensing, hand gripping in his hair, muscles clenching as his moans ended in a choked cry. A moment later, Jon felt salty warmth flood his mouth and he swallowed, moaning as he felt his own release building in turn. He ground his aching cock against the sheets once, twice more, and then he was coming as well, Theon's cock still in his mouth as he twisted his other hand in the bedspread and panted through the sensation of release ripping through him.

He shuddered through the after effects, as he let Theon's cock slip from his mouth, bowing his head onto the other man's hip as they both panted to catch their breath. After a moment he felt Theon's hand run softly through his hair, soothing and gentling him. He pressed a soft kiss against the skin under his face and felt an aftershock run through Theon as he did. It was another long moment before he pulled himself up to where Theon lay and put his head on the pillow beside the other man, turning on his side to look into Theon's eyes. The other man's gaze was deep and achingly open.  
'Happy New Year,' Jon whispered to him. Theon's lips trembled into a soft smile and he brought his hand up to stroke Jon's face, heedless of the missing fingers as he did so.  
'Happy New Year,' he whispered in turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are what keep me writing chapter after chapter after chapter of this story.
> 
> Would looove to know what you thought about being in Jon's head or about any part of this ch :D


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to @Vedicanarchist who asked me what Ramsey was up to and spun me off into a brainstorming tangent with @theonsfavouritetoy (my beautiful, eternally amazing muse) which culminated in this additional arc of angst which you'll see play out over the next few chapters.

The rest of the holiday break passed slowly and quickly at the same time. Theon divided up his days between the ship and the Hogwarts common room, curling up with Jon in front of the fire, or playing wizard's chess with Robb or rugging up and talking walks out beside the Lake. He glanced at his piles of homework occasionally but couldn't bring himself to let the real world intrude on his happiness. For once he was happy. Things were going well - so well.

Before he knew it, it was the day before classes started back and students had started returning to the school, small groups at first and then the flood that heralded the Hogwarts Express' arrival. The first he knew of it was a trio of Gryffindor fourth years stepping through the portrait hole and coming up short with looks of affronted surprise to see the group of dark-clad Durmstrang students cosied up around the fire. Theon felt a little of his happiness wilt when Jon, Robb and Gendry exchanged glances and all pushed to their feet. Jon gave Theon a small, warm smile, but he, too, turned to leave with the others. Theon stood, hesitating, wondering if he should go with them, but Jon glanced back and nodded his head to the pile of books Theon had spread haphazardly across one of the tables weeks ago.  
'Probably a good chance to at least achieve something before classes tomorrow,' he said with a wry smile. Theon felt a pang of disappointment run through him, but he nodded and stood, watching Jon as he disappeared out of the portrait hole. Then he slumped back into his seat and stared into the flickering flames, already feeling the loss of the other man keenly.

Bed that night was even stranger. He'd grown so used to falling asleep twined around Jon, sated from getting off to the other man's hand, or mouth. His bed felt cold. Empty. He _knew_ that Jon couldn't stay in his room when the castle was full again, but he still felt a flicker of irrational hurt that the other man wasn't there with him. Thoughts that had teased at the edge of his mind before the Christmas break wormed their way back in as he lay awake, on his back, staring at the canopy above him.  
He and Jon hadn't discussed whether they were _together_. With no one else around, it had been easy … natural. But with the castle full of prying eyes and wagging tongues, would Jon want them to be seen together? He thought - he knew - Jon liked him, and wanted to be with him … but what did he want other people to know about it? He wished he could just roll over, look into Jon's grey eyes and whisper the question … but a part of him was also nervous about what the answer would be … what did he want to be to Jon?  
This was so much more than lust now … that was clear … but neither of them had used the other 'L' word …

Theon rolled over with an annoyed huff of breath, whacking his pillow into a more comfortable shape. He was being stupid. However Jon wanted to play it was fine by him. Worrying about it and trying to look too deeply into it was pointless, he just had to take the lead from Jon.  
He closed his eyes and forced himself not to think any more about it. Still, it was a long time before he fell asleep.

\-----

At breakfast the next day he slipped into his normal spot beside Jon and received a warm happy smile and a nudge of the other man's shoulder against his. He could feel Jon's heat all along the side of his body. This morning though, there was no greeting kiss. Theon kept his face neutral, giving a quick smile in response and reaching for a piece of toast. Jon leaned in as Theon was lifting his first forkful to his mouth.  
'I missed you last night,' he murmured in Theon's ear, his voice low and gravelly. The sound of it - the words themselves - sent a shiver though him and brought an involuntary grin to his face. He pressed his thigh more firmly against Jon's, feeling a happy warmth spread through his chest, banishing the uncertainties of the night before.

At that moment a letter dropped down onto the table beside his plate and Theon looked up, surprised, to see one of the post owls swooping up and away from him, joining the others that were swirling their way back out of the Great Hall. Then he looked back down at the letter, reaching out for it with confused interest. The only person he ever got post from was Asha, and her letters were usually far more weather beaten by the time they got to him. The piece of parchment in his hand was thick and smooth, the expensive sort that was usually reserved for formal invitations and the like. A blob of wax sealed it, but there was no name on the front.  
He slipped a thumb under the seal to crack it and Jon glanced across with an eyebrow raised questioningly. Theon shrugged and opened the letter, scanning through its contents quickly.  
_Theon,_  
_I know you have every reason not to hear me out, but I beg you to at least read this and consider what I say. I have done a lot of thinking over the break. I've been speaking to someone - Father arranged it - about my actions and behaviours and the impacts they have on people. I have come to realise that I have done you a grave wrong - many wrongs. And I want to apologise for -_

Theon's heart was pounding madly and sick confusion was swirling through his stomach as the letter was pulled from his hand by Jon, whose face was a thundercloud of murderous anger.  
'What. The fuck. Is that fucking psycho doing writing to you?' he hissed, screwing the letter into a ball in his fist. Theon looked at him and then down at the crumpled parchment, bewildered confusion swirling through him. Then he glanced up - almost involuntarily - across the Hall to the Slytherin table. There, in the exact spot Theon knew he would be, was Ramsey Bolton, his eyes already on Theon.  
Theon shivered as he met Bolton's gaze, but the cold, arrogant _danger_ he was used to seeing on that face was missing. In its place was an openness … a vulnerability … he hadn't seen since the very beginning, back when he'd believed there was something between them. Something real -  
Theon jerked his eyes away from Bolton's face, heart thumping overtime in his chest from the adrenaline and fear that the unexpected words in the letter had pushed through him.

'What's going on?' Gendry was asking from across the table, looking between Jon and Theon and down at the crumpled paper, which Jon was now methodically tearing into tiny pieces, jaw clenched so tight Theon could see the tendons on his neck standing out.  
'That. Fucking. Bastard,' Jon gritted out. 'Is playing some fucking _game_ with Theon. I'm going to go over there and smash his fucking face in.'  
Theon felt himself snap back into focus with those words and he put a hand on Jon's arm.  
'Don't,' he said urgently. 'You can't. He hasn't _done_ anything wrong.'  
Jon tensed again at those words and actually _growled_ in frustration. He glared across the room at Bolton and Theon chanced another glance across too, but the Slytherin was focussed on the meal in front of him, not looking up from his plate, shoulders hunched as he picked lightly at his food.  
Theon looked away. 'Let's go,' he said to Jon, pulling at his arm lightly as he pushed to his feet. As they left the Great Hall, Theon felt eyes watching him. He glanced back over his shoulder to meet Bolton's pale gaze. Again, there was no malice, no rage … Nothing but an open sort of sadness. Theon turned away, hurrying after Jon.

Classes that day passed smoothly. Despite the fact that Monday was the day he shared Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures and Potions with the Slytherins - with Bolton - Theon felt more at ease in those classes than he ever had. It was half way through the day before he figured out why. Normally there was at least one set of eyes glaring into him, watching him with a look that made him feel like prey before a predator, but today … there was nothing. Neither Bolton nor his cronies Locke and Myranda had even glanced Theon's way once. The level of malevolence that was normally directed his way was gone. Just completely gone. He hadn't realised how much tension it was putting him under until it just wasn't there any more. The absence made him suspicious. What the fuck was Bolton playing at? Why had everything changed so suddenly? So completely?

In potions he'd moved to the store room to collect the ingredients for his Befuddlment Draught when he felt a presence behind him. He whirled immediately, tense and on guard, to see Bolton stepping into the room behind him. As fear and adrenaline flooded through him, he raised his hands, beginning to back away, but at the same time Bolton's eyes widened in surprise, and instead he backed out of the room, disappearing completely with a quick, 'Sorry, Theon. Didn't realise you were in here.'  
Theon stared after him, mouth opened in surprise. A second later Jon was stepping into the room, rushing up to Theon with a look of concern on his face. He gripped Theon's upper arms, bending his head to catch Theon's eyes.  
'Are you alright? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? I'm so sorry. I didn't realise he'd followed you in.'  
Theon held up a shaky hand to halt the flow of words. 'I'm fine. He - he didn't do anything. He just … _apologised_ for - for -' his voice trailed off at the unreality of it all, and he just stared out of the now empty doorway again, unable to believe what had just occurred.

Jon's face darkened and he turned to stare out the door as well. Then he shook himself and turned back to Theon.  
'He's playing a game with you,' he said, voice urgent. 'You can't let him get to you. Whatever it is, he -'  
Theon interrupted him, feeling a sudden spike of irritation that surprised him. 'I know that,' he said, frowning as he turned to look back out of the store room door. 'I'm not an idiot. I've lived with his "games" for a lot longer than you have.'  
He glanced back at Jon and felt a sliver of shame at the look of hurt on the other man's face.  
'Come on,' he said, grabbing his ingredients off the shelf. 'Let's forget it and just be happy he's not on my case for a change.'  
Jon gave him a smile that looked forced and then nodded, and followed him from the room.

\----

The next two weeks passed in much the same way. Bolton went out of his way to leave Theon alone - to the extent that when he saw Theon coming, he turned and walked the other way. Theon's initial suspicious confusion dulled to relief as he began to relax into the idea that Bolton would just _leave him alone_. That it might all be over. Finally. He didn't want to examine what was going on too closely. Didn't want to break the spell and bring the dream to an end - bring the nightmare back into his life. So he focussed on ignoring Bolton as much as Bolton was ignoring him, and found that after a while, that razor edge of awareness began to dull slightly. The spike of panicked fear that ran through him every time he caught sight of the styled black hair above those high, cut cheekbones and pale eyes became a low level wariness. He couldn't let go of what had happened to him - could never fully relax. But he could - at least - begin to put it in the past, to not let it wrap up his present and future.

The only problem with this approach was Jon. Jon refused to let go of his theory that this was all just some elaborate game Bolton was playing - that Theon needed to be careful now more than ever. He watched Bolton like a hawk, waiting for the slightest sign of _anything_ untoward that he could pounce on. Even when Bolton was nowhere in sight, Theon could see the tension in Jon as he surveyed their surroundings, barely focussing on the work or the conversation in front of him. It was wearying, and served to do nothing more than remind Theon of all the shit he was trying to forget.

He'd brought it up with Jon, about a week after Bolton's initial letter. They'd been in Jon's room, on the ship, the one place Jon finally dropped his guard. They were lying on his bed, trading lazy kisses after the first orgasm they'd shared all week. Between the crush of students coming back, their hectic study schedules and the strange situation with Bolton, they hadn't had a chance to be alone - or if they had been, the headspace where either of them wanted to be intimate.

Theon was running his fingers up and down Jon's arm, watching as the tattoos swirled and bunched up at his fingertips, as though they were following his touch, wanting to be near him. He'd hesitated, not sure how to put into words what he wanted to say.  
'Can you -' he started, and then changed his mind. 'I want to be happy. I want us to be happy.'  
Jon had frowned, 'We are happy … I thought we were anyway.'  
Theon shook his head, 'This thing with Bolton … can you let it go? It's - it's like you don't think about anything else nowadays -'  
Jon had interrupted him, pulling back slightly. 'I'm not letting it go, Theon. He's up to something. I'm not dropping my guard around that monster for a second. Have you forgotten what he did to you?'  
Theon had pulled back completely at that, sitting up with a glare of anger at Jon, 'Of course I haven't fucking forgotten what he did to me,' he'd hissed, holding up his mangled hand in front of Jon's face. 'I have a permanent reminder of what he's taken from me.'  
Jon's face had dropped and he'd reached out immediately. 'I'm sorry, Theon. I didn't mean that. He's just got me so - I'm scared for you.' His face had looked so earnest, so open that Theon couldn’t sustain his brief flare of anger. He knew Jon was just being so protective because he cared.

He softened his glare. 'I'm sorry. I just don't want to think about it all the time. I just want to try and put it all behind me.'  
Jon had nodded, like he'd understood, but Theon could see in his face that he had no intention of letting it go.

\----

It was late one night and Theon was just about to step back through the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms when a Slytherin first year ran up to him, blonde braid swinging as she came to a halt before him.  
'Are you Theon Greyjoy?' she asked with a gaze that was clearly supposed to look cool and collected, but instead just looked wide eyed at the fact that she was talking to a sixth year.  
Theon nodded that he was and glanced around, trying to see if there was anything else - anything that could indicate some sort of a set up. But there was no one, and as he looked back at the nervous young girl in front of him, Theon couldn't bring himself to summon up an ounce of fear at the sight of her.  
She smiled slightly in relief and raised her hand to pass him a folded letter with a blob of wax sealing it. Theon took it automatically, looking down at it, un-addressed … the same thick, expensive parchment he'd felt two weeks earlier.

Part of him wanted to thrust it back at the girl in front of him, tell her to tell Bolton to leave him the hell alone … but he didn't. Instead he slipped the letter inside his robes and turned to enter the common room.  
He went up to his room, slipping out of his robes and tossing the letter, unopened, into his bedside table. He spelled his curtains closed and climbed into bed and lay there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness. After a moment he closed his eyes and rolled on to his stomach, trying to force himself to sleep. But thoughts of the heavy piece of parchment in his drawer kept bobbing to the forefront of his mind.

He'd never actually _read_ the other letter in full. Did this one say the same things the other one had? Did it _explain_ what the fuck was going on right now?  
Theon pulled up his thoughts, rolling over with a huff. What did he care what Bolton had to say. It was enough that he was being left alone. Wasn't it?  
But the unread words continued to taunt him, stirring his fears and uncertainties. What if they said something important? Flagged some trap or trick of Bolton's that he needed to know about? To be wary of? If Bolton had assumed he wouldn't read the letter and had explained just what was happening inside it … would Theon be bringing about his own downfall by ignoring it?

Finally he couldn't deal with it anymore. He rolled over with a low growl of annoyance and slid the drawer open silently, scooping the letter up. With his hand on his wand and a whisper of _Lumos_ , he had a low light to read by. He scooted up to the head of his bed and looked at the folded parchment in his hands, heart beating fast with trepidation.  
He could picture exactly what Jon would say if he were here right now. Somehow that was the thought that steeled him - that tipped him into action.  
With a deep breath, Theon slid his thumb under the wax seal and cracked it open.

_Dear Theon,_  
_I want to begin this letter by again apologising for my past behaviours and any harms I have done to you. I know that mere words will not be sufficient for us to move beyond the past, so all I can hope to do is demonstrate my repentance through my actions._

_I hope in time you will come to trust my change of attitude and to believe that it is as heartfelt and true as I know it to be. As a symbol of that change, I wanted to give you support with the task for the second challenge. You may already have solved it - you always were a quick thinker - but if not … take your golden egg and immerse it in water. It will sing a different tune. I would recommend the prefects bathroom on the fifth floor. The password is pine fresh._

_I will continue to give you the space and respect you have deserved all along. I hope that in time, that arrangement can become as comfortable for you as it is for me._

_Thank you for hearing me out._  
_RRB_

_P.S. Please destroy this letter. We are not supposed to share information about the challenges and, while I would not mind being penalised for you, I would not want you to get in trouble for this._

Theon frowned in confusion, thoughts roiling through him, eyes flicking back and forth over the letter in his hands. A shadow of doubt ran through him and he crushed it immediately. Bolton didn't mean any of this … he couldn't.  
Something else caught his eye and Theon ran his fingers over the bottom of the parchment, where there was a faint smudge, as though words had been written and then magically erased. There was a short phrase and then a wet smudge staining the page, as though a droplet of water had fallen beside the words.  
He ran his fingers over the missing words again, feeling the uncertainty swirl back through him.

He pulled the parchment closer to his face, lifting his wand and bringing the lit tip closer to the heavy paper. He tapped his wand on the page and whispered the revealing charm they'd learned in fourth year, _'Aparecium'_.  
The ink floated back up to the surface of the parchment, outlining the words in sharp relief. Theon stared at them, heart lurching in a painful thump, mouth dry with shock.  
The final three words, erased from the bottom of the letter read,  
_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to attempt to play out a PTSD/ abuse survivor & abuser repentance cycle in the next few chs. If I fuck it up or write it in a way which offends anyone, please tell me either in comments or on tumblr (squirrel-and-me).
> 
> Other than that ... what do you recon with where we're at?
> 
> It's a fine balancing line between having self-respect and begging on bended knees for comments ... so yeah if you're reading along would love your thoughts, even just a quick hello ;)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would ya fucking look at me go! 2 chs in 3 days haha
> 
> Do like writing me some Bolton angst.

He woke the next morning after a few scant hours of restless sleep. Nothing was left of the letter but a smear of ash on his bedcovers. His eyes were caught by it as he climbed out of bed, exhaustion dragging at his limbs. Frowning, Theon brushed at the smudge, wanting it gone. Wanting all evidence of the letter - of those words - gone. He was so lost inside his own head that when he stumbled out of the portrait hole on his way to the bathrooms and Jon reached out to clasp his arm, he startled badly, jerking his head around to meet Jon's eyes, his own wide with surprise, his heart beating hard in his chest.  
'Hey,' Jon said, releasing Theon's arm with a look of concern on his face. 'Are you okay?'  
Theon forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath and nodding. 'Fine. I'm fine. You just - I didn't see you,' he said, rubbing one hand over his tired eyes and up through his hair.  
'You look terrible,' Jon said, concern deepening into a frown as he looked Theon up and down.  
'Gee, thanks,' Theon snapped. 'You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself.'  
Jon blanched and opened his mouth to apologise and Theon sighed, shoulders slumping. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just didn't sleep very well last night.'

Jon reached out again to clasp his upper arm gently, thumb rubbing softly. Theon wanted the other man to draw him into a hug. He wanted to bury his face in Jon's neck and breathe him in and feel like everything would be okay. But Jon made no further move towards him.  
'Anything in particular keep you up?' the other man was asking him, eyes earnest.  
Theon hesitated for a moment. He thought of telling Jon about the letter - the words - but he was too tired to get into a fight right now about whether he even should have read the damned thing.  
He shook his head, turning towards the bathrooms so he didn't have to meet Jon's eyes. 'Just one of those nights. You know.'  
Jon made a sympathetic sound and caught up to walk beside him so their shoulders brushed together lightly. The sensation didn't thrill through Theon like it normally did - he barely even noticed. Jon waited outside the bathrooms as usual, and when Theon was in the shower, he turned the water up as hot as he could stand it and just stood there, letting it flow over him, blocking out all sight and sound, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts that had circulated through it all night long. Ramsay was just playing with him - he had to be. Theon resolved nolt to let it get to him. He would just keep doing what he'd been doing the last few weeks, ignoring the other man and getting on with his life. He had more important things to think about anyway, like his studies … and the next Challenge. 

As that thought popped into his head, so did the words Bolton had written about the egg and what he should do with it to hear the clue for the next challenge. The second challenge was in less than a month and he had made absolutely zero progress towards figuring out what it was or what he needed to do to pass it. He thought for a moment about taking his egg up to the baths and sinking it below the water to see what happened. But the idea of doing something Bolton had suggested - of taking himself to the bathrooms where he would be isolated and alone - screamed of a trap. He felt a stab of remembered fear run though him and the cycle of his thoughts turned again, round and around and around. When he left the shower he was in no better headspace than when he'd entered it.

He couldn't help his eyes straying over to the Slytherin table at breakfast, but there was no sign of Bolton in his normal place. Theon didn't know if the thud in his chest was relief, or -  
He cut that thought off before he could take it any further. The only thing he would ever feel at Bolton's absence would be relief.  
History of Magic passed quickly that morning. Theon focussed as hard as he could on Professor Baratheon's droning voice, trying to take down every fact and figure and force his mind to keep them in a logical order. It helped, for a while. They were learning about how wizards through the ages had influenced muggle religious development, particularly in isolated areas. The section about how Ironborn wizards had spawned legends about the Drowned God in the area around Pyke had been fascinating, and was something Theon thought he might look more into. He hadn't realised that his ancestors might be more than the common fishermen they were today.

They had to cross from History of Magic straight across to Greenhouse three for their Herbology class before lunch and Theon wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. He realised half way there that he'd left his extra books behind in a pile beside his desk and turned to Jon with a quick explanation before he jogged back into the castle. He slipped inside Professor Baratheon's classroom - the man gave him a severe glance but didn't say anything - and gathered up his books before hurrying back out the door. He almost ran full tilt into another student, who shot his hands out to steady Theon, grasping him by both shoulders. Theon glanced up to say a quick thanks, but the eyes that met his made the words die in his throat.  
'Slow down,' Ramsay Bolton said with a hint of a smile. 'Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.'  
Theon looked at him, frozen, unable to move or speak. Bolton didn't drop his hands and Theon was immediately aware of every inch of contact the other man had with him. Something within him was screaming at him to move. To run. But he couldn't.

Bolton's smile deepened. It wasn't the cruel, mocking smile Theon had become so used to seeing. It was a genuine, happy smile that just said he was pleased to see Theon. Theon couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. He used to yearn to have that smile turned his way. Used to long for it. Especially after things had shifted between them … after the bad things had started to happen. Theon used to plan for hours to come up with just the right thing to do, or just the right thing to say to make the anger fade away from Ramsay's face and the happy, pleased smile return.  
'Did you read my letter?' Bolton asked, eyes searching Theon's face. Theon thought for a moment about lying, about saying he'd destroyed it before reading it. But Ramsay would know. He always knew when Theon was lying. Bad things happened when Theon lied.  
He nodded instead, still not able to bring words to his mouth.

Ramsay's smile faded a touch, some of the happiness left it and a look of remorse, a sad twist to his lips, replaced it. He loosened his hands on Theon's arms, rubbing over him gently for a moment before dropping his own hands to his sides.  
'Thank you for reading it,' he said, voice gentle. So gentle. It reminded Theon of times, long ago, when he would sneak into Ramsay's room at night and they would lie together in the dark, wrapped around each other. Ramsay would whisper stories to him - the most outrageous stories - about the secrets he'd uncovered. Secrets about the students and Professors alike. His insurance, Ramsay had called it. Theon just loved being in on the secret, being the one Ramsay had chosen, above all others, to share it with.

Ramsay raised one hand, slowly, eyes searching Theon's face as he hovered his fingertips just above Theon's cheek. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered, 'So sorry. I know … right now … that's not enough but I just …' Theon shrank back slightly from the almost-touch and Ramsay sighed and dropped his hand, biting at his lip. 'You know how I get sometimes, Theon. I just get so angry.' His eyes searched Theon's as though begging him to understand, to remember, that he hadn’t always been so angry, so cruel.  
'I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don't want to hurt you - anyone - any more. I can be better. I want you to know that. I _will_ be better.'  
Theon's mind was a swirl of confused emotion. He'd heard these words before, he'd had the tender touches and the 'I'm sorry's' and the 'I love you's'. It never - he never _changed_. Some of his feelings must have showed on his face because Ramsay sighed and made to reach out again.  
'I know it will be slow, Theon. But I will do whatever I can to make you see I've changed. I - I miss you.' There was raw, open hurt in Ramsay's face, written across his whole body. Theon felt his heart thud harder. He had _never_ seen this level of vulnerability from Ramsay before. He couldn't imagine the other man - powerful, in control, at the top of the social ladder - _ever_ wanting or needing to let another person see his weaknesses. Despite himself, a tiny tendril of … something … reached out in response to the anguish he saw written across the man in front of him.

He pushed it down. Crushed it. He forced himself to think of each and every horrifying reason he had to run screaming away from Ramsay Bolton. But the man in front of him must have seen the tiny second of waver in his resolution. He reached into his robes. Theon tensed, but Ramsay just withdrew a slim, leather book. It was dark brown and beautifully bound in thick, rich, expensive looking leather. Across the front was a stylised compass, embossed into the smooth surface, the letters TG stamped above it.  
'This is for you. Late Christmas present,' Ramsay said, pushing it into Theon's hands. His fingers closed around it automatically. He felt like he was in a dream, disconnected from his thoughts and emotions. He couldn't seem to make himself do or say anything he should be, instead he stood frozen before Ramsay, only able to react to his actions. _I'm in shock_ , a part of him thought dispassionately.  
He looked down at the book in his hands, flicking it open to see it was blank, the parchment heavy and expensive looking.  
'It's blank,' Ramsay said, still in that quiet, gentle voice. 'A symbol of a fresh start, if you will. I hope - you can throw it away if you want … but I hope you'll keep it. I had it made just for you.' He shrugged one shoulder in a self-depreciating movement.

Theon opened his mouth … unsure what he wanted to say yet somehow feeling he needed to say _something_. To tell Ramsay to leave him alone … or to ask him why he'd done what he'd done. Why he'd ruined everything … ruined Theon.  
But before he could say anything, there was a rough hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards, and then someone pushed in front of him, squaring up against Ramsay with a low growl.  
'You stay _the fuck_ away from Theon. You hear me you piece of shit.'  
Theon realised it was Jon, and his hands were balled at his side, knuckles white from strain. Jon looked a hairs breadth away from hitting Ramsay and the thought sent panic through Theon. Jon couldn't get involved. He couldn't get in trouble on Theon's behalf.

He reached out to Jon, to pull him back, when Ramsay's voice arrested him. The tone was colder now, a hint of his normal arrogance returning as he faced Jon down without flinching.  
'I'd say it's up to Theon, who he wants to speak to, wouldn't you? Or do you control who he does and doesn't see?' Ramsay arched an eyebrow in a delicate challenge and Jon growled, taking half a step forward.  
'You listen to me, you bastard. Theon doesn't want you around him. He doesn't want anything to do with you. You step _one foot_ out of line and I'll remove you from his life permanently.'  
Ramsay looked faintly bored at the threat, instead his gaze moved past Jon to meet Theon's again, a question clear in his eyes.  
'Go,' Theon muttered, 'Please.'

Ramsay nodded and gave him that pleased, happy smile again, then he tipped Jon a lazy, mocking salute from his forehead with two fingers and moved a few paces down the corridor to enter Professor Baratheon's classroom.  
Jon turned immediately to Theon, eyes dark and face stressed. He grabbed Theon by one arm, not speaking, and pulled him through the castle until they were back outside in the open air. Instead of steering them towards the Greenhouses, he pulled Theon into the shade of one of the huge oak trees, then he finally let go of his arm.  
Theon's heart was still pounding in his chest and he clutched the pile of books in his other arm as the last few minutes swirled through his head, a crazy jumble of words and touches and emotions. He felt on the edge of running, still, the adrenaline that had been so slow to appear during his conversation with Ramsay now sweeping through his body, making him feel shaky and weak. He just wanted to sit down - or lie down - and think. Try and figure out what the fuck was going on.

But Jon didn't give him that space. He stepped back in close to Theon and put his hands on his shoulders, looking intensely into his eyes.  
'What did he say to you?' Jon asked, in a tone that said he expected an answer. 'What was that? Were you having a _conversation_ with him? Did he hurt you? Are you ok?'  
The questions swirled around in Theon's mind, adding to the increasing din of confusion and panic he was sitting at the edge of.  
'Theon!' Jon said, leaning in closer, trying to get his attention. 'I need to know what he said to you. You can't space out on me. This is important.'

Theon swallowed, tried to take a deep breath through the feeling of tight constriction that was slowly wrapping around his chest and licked his lips. His mouth was so dry.  
'I - I -' he started, trying to think of the words he needed. Jon was so close. He just wanted to sit down for a moment. To think.  
'He said - he said he was sorry. He didn't want to hurt me -'  
Theon didn't get more than that out before Jon's hands had squeezed down momentarily on his shoulders and then the other man span around, moving back a few paces with a cry of rage.  
'Are you for real, right now? Don't be stupid, Theon. Of course he wanted to hurt you, and he'll keep on hurting you. You can't listen to a word that monster says.' Jon's voice was increasing in volume as his frustration built. 

Hearing Jon shout at him - Jon call him stupid - was suddenly too much. Theon squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to breath, to try and take a deep breath, but it was no good. He could feel the panic rising in him - the sense of helplessness. His breathing came faster and faster, panting gulps now. His heartbeat was rocketing in his ears, the woosh of it all he could hear. He gripped the books in his hands tighter, hugging them across his chest, trying to hold himself together, anchor himself. He could hear a sound coming from his mouth, a kind of high pitched whimper and then faintly, as though from a great distance, the words, 'Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.'

It felt like an eternity before he came back to an awareness of what was going on around him. He realised he was sitting on the ground, Jon behind him, with his arms wrapped around Theon, holding him against his chest. He focussed on the feeling of the other man's warmth under his cheek, the sound of Jon's slow, steady heartbeat under his ear. When he'd finally calmed down enough, he heard the words that Jon was murmuring in his ear as he stroked his hand through Theon's hair in gentle, sure strokes.  
'I'm so sorry, Theon. I'm sorry. I should have been thinking about you and what you need and not about myself and how angry what he does to you makes me. I just - Theon I l- I care about you so much. I just - the thought of him hurting you again drives me crazy.'  
One word speared through him … captured his whole attention. He knew what Jon had been about to say - hadn't been able to bring himself to say. He let out a small, choked laugh that was more like a sob. It shouldn't surprise him … look at him right now, basically passed out because Jon raised his voice. He'd heard it often enough from Ramsay that he shouldn't be surprised. A man like Jon couldn't love a fuck up like him.

\----

It was late that night and Theon had the curtains drawn over his bed and his wand glowing softly beside him. He picked up the slim, leather book and opened it to the first page, tracing his fingers over the fine paper softly. Then he picked up his quill and began to write, the faint scratching sounds somehow soothing in the quiet of the night.  
_January 27th_  
_I don't know what to think …_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heading into the city for the night this week so a nice long train trip and a day to myself should see us end up with another ch or two in a few days :)


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to part 1 of my trip to the city and 24 hrs to myself lol. Aiming to get another 2 chs out tomorrow :D
> 
> Also I'm seeing the fucking Whitlams tonight Wooooooo!

Theon woke the next morning feeling fuzzy. He'd slept badly again, tossing and turning, slipping from one dream to another while never fully waking. He didn't remember what he'd dreamed about. Vague, shadowy forms, hands reaching out to him, pleas and demands he couldn't remember. He glanced around slowly and was surprised to see the room was a lot brighter than it should be and the beds around him were all empty. He reached sluggishly for his wand and muttered, ' _Tempus_ '. The glowing clock face in front of him said it was ten minutes until his first class started. He felt a jolt of alarm run through him but it faded quickly, leaving him feel just as tired as before. He thought for a moment about just staying in bed, rolling over and sleeping it off. 

Then he shook his head, running one hand over his face, trying to force himself to wake up. He rolled slowly out of bed and pulled his robes over his head, patting for a second at his hair before deciding he didn't care anyway. He pushed his feet into his boots and slung his bag over one shoulder, pausing for a moment, turning back to his bed with a feeling he'd forgotten something. He saw the corner of the leather journal peeking out from under his pillow and reached for it, tucking it into his pocket.

As soon as he stepped out of the portrait hole, strong arms gathered him into a tight hug and Jon's familiar, warm scent wrapped around him. Theon tensed for a moment in surprise and then relaxed, wrapping his arms around Jon in turn and burying his face in the other man's neck. He breathed in the warmth of Jon's skin against his face, closing his eyes and sighing in relief. Jon's arms tightened around him and his face rubbed over Theon's hair.  
'Hey,' Jon said, voice low and rumbling pleasantly. 'You're up late. Didn't sleep well again?'  
Theon shook his head against Jon's neck, not wanting to do more than just hold him and let the touch of the other man's body drive away the lassitude that he just couldn't seem to shake.  
'Maybe you can come across to the ship for a night? You might sleep better if -'  
Sounds from down the corridor interrupted Jon's words and he looked over his shoulder for a moment before huffing a sigh and dropping his arms, disengaging gently from Theon and stepping back a pace.  
'We should get to class,' Jon said, as a handful of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students came around the corner on their way to the first lesson of the day.  
Theon wanted to grab him, pull him close again. But he just nodded, the urge to do so fading as quickly as it had arisen. He was just so _tired_.

'Come on,' said Jon, giving him a smile, eyes trying to send him a message that he couldn't read. 'Let's get down to Davos' class. Maybe being out on the Lake for a bit will wake you up.'  
Theon nodded again, walking beside Jon, not thinking of much more than putting one foot in front of the other. He slipped his hands into his pocket and the smooth leather of the journal met his touch. He rubbed his fingers over it absently as he walked.  
Jon seemed happy enough not to talk as they walked down, out of the castle and across the grounds. As they approached Davos' hut, Theon could see that the rest of the class was already gathered and Davos was addressing them. As they walked across the open space, a few heads turned to watch them. Theon's eyes skated over Robb, Gendry and Ygritte and then caught on Ramsay Bolton, watching him quietly with pale, calm eyes. Ramsay gave him a small smile of hello. Theon looked away. Beside him he felt Jon stiffen and knew the other man had caught the smile.  
He felt a small spike of irritation at Jon's reaction. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't actually stop Bolton from smiling at him … He'd never been able to stop Bolton doing anything … He resolved to just do his best to ignore the both of them. Maybe being out on the Lake would help his mood. He tuned into what Davos was saying.  
'So terday we'll be collecting teh mosses tha' hang from teh godswood trees. Th're a particular favourite of our resident mermaid population, though they 'ave problems getting' teh mosses, obviously, seeing as th're on land.' At this, Davos turned to give Jon and Theon a significant look, though he had no idea what it was in relation to. He felt a flash of disappointment that they wouldn't be out on the water. He liked the Forbidden Forest, but it didn't relax him in the same way. He was feeling more alert now, from being outside, but was also starting to feel edgy, like something was prickling its way under his skin. Like he was waiting for something to happen. He glanced around as Davos continued talking, but no one else looked to be similarly affected.

As Theon's gaze passed over him, Bolton's eyes flicked across to meet his. His gaze was knowing, as though he held a secret that Theon needed to know too. Theon looked away again.  
Then Davos was telling them all to follow him across the grounds and towards one of the paths that led into the forest. Theon walked side by side with Jon, not taking in Robb and Gendry's banter. He looked across at Jon, whose grey eyes were concerned when they met Theon's. Theon felt that same prickle of irritation again. He wasn't some charity case that needed to be handled with kid gloves. The last few days, Jon had been acting like Theon couldn't do anything for himself - be trusted to make any decision. And frankly, it was giving him the shits. He shoved his hands into his pocket, brushing against the leather of the journal as he did so. He curled his fingers around it, he'd almost forgotten it was there. 

Once they'd walked for about twenty minutes, Davos pointed out the trees that grew the moss, scattered in amongst the rest of the forest and told them to get to it. Students started spreading out, searching for their own trees, jumping up to reach the delicate strands of pale blue moss hanging from the higher branches.  
Theon started walking in a random direction, he didn't much care whether he collected moss or not. A part of him reflected for an instant that that was strange … Davos' class was usually his favourite. But the thought was gone in a moment. He moved further away from the quiet chatter of the other students and the sounds of twigs cracking and jumping thuds as people reached for the moss. Within a few moments, he could barely hear anything but his own footsteps, and Jon's at his side. Then he felt a warm, rough hand slip into his, and Jon twined their fingers together.

Theon looked at him, surprised, and Jon smiled at him, a shy, warm smile. Theon tightened his grip, feeling a comforting warmth move through his chest. It seemed like forever since he'd been able to share just a casual touch with Jon - something that wasn't a quick kiss in an empty classroom …  
'I miss this,' he said, quietly, not looking at Jon. He ran his thumb across the back of the other man's hand as he did so. He heard Jon sigh and then he stopped, tugging Theon gently to face him.  
'Me too,' he said, voice sad. Theon glanced up at him to see Jon's eyes were troubled. The markings around his eyes were flattened, making him look more dispirited.  
Theon screwed up his courage, to ask something he'd been wanting to ask almost since school came back, 'So … couldn't we … I mean would it be so terrible if people knew?' His voice came out small and hesitant towards the end. He almost didn't want to hear the answer.

Jon's face fell at his words, and he took a step closer to Theon, reaching up to cup his cheek in one hand.  
'I _want_ people to know,' he said. Some of Theon's disbelief must have shown on his face because Jon said, 'Hey, no, Theon, I do. But … You have to understand. Everything good in my life … Everything I want … Everything that's mine. It gets wrecked. People … The papers … Fans … They feel like they have some right to me. To decide what I do or who I'm with. I don't want them to ruin this, Theon. To ruin us.'  
Theon could see the anguish in Jon's eyes, how hard it was for him to say those words, to have to think in that way. _They won't,_ he wanted to say. _They can't_ , but a part of him wasn't so sure. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe this was for the best. Something in secret was better than nothing … Wasn't it?

He forced a smile onto his face, 'Sure,' he said, happy that his voice was more steady now. 'I get it.'  
Jon's smile of relief ached inside Theon's chest, but he just pushed his smile wider. 'I guess we should collect some of this moss,' he said, looking around with vague purpose.  
Jon's thumb brushed softly across Theon's cheek in response, then down over his bottom lip, the light touch sending a spark of heat through him. His breath caught and Jon's eyes sparked at the reaction.  
'Maybe you should come and stay at the ship tonight,' Jon murmured huskily, leaning closer. Theon couldn't do much more than nod as Jon's lips touched his, the barest of brushes. He felt his heart speed up and he brought his hands to Jon's waist, wanting him closer. Jon let himself be pulled and their lips touched again, firmer this time, Jon's mouth soft and warm against his. Theon let out a huff of breath and Jon tilted his face, deepening the kiss. Theon moaned softly, revelling in the sensation of Jon's mouth on his, Jon's firm, strong body against his.

He couldn't get over how much he wanted this man. Every time they were together - every time they touched and kissed … It was intense. He felt like he was losing himself in Jon. He'd never felt this way before, not even with -  
The thought of Ramsey flashed into his mind, souring his mood and he pulled back for an instant. Jon paused too, licking his lips, breathing coming faster, 'You're right,' the other man said, completely misunderstanding Theon's pause. 'We shouldn't. Will you visit tonight though?' 

Theon dropped his hands from Jon's waist, shoving them into the pockets of his robe. He curled his fingers around the journal, a hint of frustration spiking through him as he did so.  
'Maybe,' he said, noncommittally. A part of him tried not to notice how Jon's face fell at the words. Another part whispered that it served Jon right. If Theon was going to be Snow's dirty little secret, then Theon should get to set the terms of how it happened. He pushed that thought away, not sure where it had come from.  
'Let's just get some moss,' he said with a sigh, turning to the nearest tree. After a moment, Jon joined him and they pulled down the lower pieces, stuffing them into the small canvas carry bags Davos has provided. They worked in silence, the intimacy of earlier somehow broken. 

Theon was lost in thoughts of the earlier conversation, trying to puzzle out what was going wrong. Why he was feeling the way he did. He jumped up to reach a strand of pale blue moss wrapped around a branch and came down hard, foot slipping off the side of a tree root and ankle twisting viciously. He yelped in pain and half-fell to the ground. Jon was at his side in an instant, helping him into a sitting position.  
'Are you okay?' He asked. 'What happened?'  
Theon winced as he moved his leg out in front of him. His ankle was throbbing with pain and he hissed out air between his teeth when he tried to move it.  
'I think I just broke my damned ankle,' he grunted.  
Jon's eyes widened, 'Gods. Okay. Um, I don’t know any healing charms. I'm - I'll go get Davos okay?'  
Theon nodded, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his ankle. He tried to remind himself that he'd had worse.

Jon hesitated, looking down at him. 'I don't want to leave you here by yourself,' he said, looking around him at the silent, motionless forest. Theon waved him away. 'You'll only be gone a few minutes. I'll be fine.'  
Jon still looked hesitant, but when Theon winced again, grasping his calf, Jon whirled and hurried off through the trees.

It was silent for only a moment before there was a soft footfall to his right. Theon's head jerked around as Bolton stepped out from behind a tree.  
'Are you okay?' He said, hurrying over and dropping to his knees beside Theon. 'I heard someone cry out. What happened?'  
The pain was clouding his brain. He knew he didn't want to engage with Ramsay - should ask him to leave - but instead he gasped. 'Slipped. Broke my ankle I think.'  
Ramsay frowned, looking down at Theon with concern. He raised his hands, then hesitated. 'I could take away the pain for you?' He offered quietly, glancing up at Theon, leaving the choice entirely in his hands. Theon couldn't think past the twisting, throbbing agony in his ankle. Ramsay had taken his pain from him before … It was a spell he was very familiar with.

Theon bit his lip and then winced and nodded. Ramsay's eyes lit with satisfaction and he leaned forward, ever so slowly, reaching with both hands for the sides of Theon's face.  
His hands were warm and soft, not rough and calloused like Jon's. They felt strange against his skin, like the memory of something from long ago.  
Ramsay's eyes looked into his, pale and intense as he whispered, _'Anōdynos'_. Theon felt relief flood through him immediately and he sagged at the absence of the pain, breath escaping him in a rush.

A second later he was shoved sideways as a huge, white blur crashed into Ramsay, ripping him away from Theon and sending him sprawling across the ground. There was a savage, snarling growl and a cry of fear and pain from Ramsay. Theon tried to focus on what he was seeing and gasped in shock as he realised it was Jon's wolf, Ghost, standing over Ramsay's cowering form, snarling and shaking his head viciously as he savaged the other man's arm.  
He pushed to his feet, trying to - he didn't know what he was trying to do - but as he took a step forward, his foot collapsed under him and he went sprawling to the ground again. A second later there were shouts and a jet of red light as someone yelled, ' _Stupefy_ '.  
The wolf slumped to one side, hit by the jet of light. Ramsay lay half underneath it still, unmoving.

Theon jerked his head around to see Davos and Jon running towards them. Jon spared him a quick glance to make sure he was okay and then rushed over to the wolf, pulling it off Ramsay and checking along its throat and chest for wounds. Theon saw Jon turn a glare on Davos, who was fully occupied checking Ramsay, who was still lying on the ground. As Theon watched, Ramsay moaned and stirred, crying out piteously as he clutched his bloodied arm to himself.  
'That _monster_ attacked me,' he said, as he scrambled backwards across the damp, leaf-strewn ground. His eyes were wide with fright and he was breathing hard.  
'It attacked me for no reason. It's a vicious beast. It needs to be killed.'

At that Jon's head jerked up and he spun in a crouch, reaching into his robes to pull out his wand. He levelled it at Ramsay, face a mask of cold rage.  
'Don't you fucking dare touch him,' Jon growled.  
Ramsay's eyes narrowed and Theon shivered to see the look of malevolence that crossed his face for the briefest instant. Ramsay turned to Davos, holding up his blood-streaked arm, his robe hanging from it in tatters.  
'You saw it attack me, _Professor_ ,' he said, voice cold. 'It needs to be destroyed.'  
Jon _growled_ at the words, looking fierce and feral and for all the world as though he was going to leap across the space between himself and Ramsay and finish the job.

Theon felt frozen, unable to speak or move. Davos looked between Ramsay and Jon, the wolf still lying on the bare earth and then finally at Theon. With a sigh he raised his wand. Jon tensed, turning his glare on Davos.  
'Relax, lad,' the gruff older man said. 'I'm not going te hurt yer beast. But he did attack a student. I need te restrain him 'til we can find out the full story of what happened here.' At this, his gaze moved back to Ramsay, who met it defiantly.

Theon didn't take his eyes off Jon. The other man was as tense as a bowstring, teetering on the very edge of violence and Theon willed him to make the right choice.  
Finally, after an age, his shoulders slumped and he dropped his wand to his side, a look of despair coming to his face. Theon felt his heart ache at the look and he wanted desperately to comfort Jon, but the other man didn't once turn his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you mush together Buckbeak and Draco and Lady and Joffrey and Ramsay and his hounds and get ... this hahha


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whitlams was amazing and I'm home now so that's all she wrote until I get 10 seconds to myself again. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next hour was a blur of action as Davos strapped Theon's ankle so Gendry and Robb could help him up to the castle. He didn't provide any treatment to Ramsey's arm, despite the other man making it clear the agonising pain he was in.  
'There's so much blood. I can't feel my fingers. I'll probably be crippled,' Bolton was saying as Myranda and Locke supported him back to the Castle behind Theon.  
'If he doesn't shut up, I'll fucking cripple him,' Gendry muttered under his breath. Theon couldn't bring himself to find the situation funny. The look on Jon's face as Davos had muzzled and leashed Ghost was haunting him.  
'My father will hear about this,' Ramsey was still saying. 'Such a vicious beast never should have been allowed into the school grounds. What can you expect from Durmstrang students. Little better than animals, the lot of -'

Gendry growled and spun around, wand drawn, leaving Theon to stumble against Robb's side.  
'Well they fucking let you in, didn't they. Now shut your bloody mouth before I give you something to really cry about.'  
Ramsay's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to retort, but then his eyes flicked across to Theon's, and he subsided, not apologising, but not saying more either. Theon relaxed a fraction.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, Talisa hurried over to them, directing Theon towards a bed and Ramsay to another at the other end of the large room. Robb smiled a quick hello to her and then turned to Theon, 'I need to go and find Jon okay? I need to make sure Ghost's okay.'  
Theon nodded, 'Let me know what's happening please,' he murmured, a curl of guilt moving through him as the situation started to sink in. This was his fault. Jon's wolf never would have attacked Ramsay if he hadn't been near Theon to start with.  
Robb nodded, looking distracted and hurried off. 

Talisa was at the other end of the beds, seemingly wanting to assess a bleeding arm before a broken ankle. Theon could hear the murmur of her voice as she spoke charms over the wounds and then the tinkle of a bottle as she spread a substance over the partially healed cuts. Dittany, he guessed, to reduce the scarring. He wondered how bad the wounds were. There had been a lot of blood … His guilt increased. Ramsay hadn't actually been hurting him at the time the wolf had attacked … The opposite in fact … He tried to push his sympathy for the man at the other end of the room away. This was only Bolton getting his karma back … Wasn't it?

Then Talisa was approaching his bed with a frown. 'I was hoping we could go more than a few months without seeing you again, Theon. What happened?'  
He felt his face redden slightly as he admitted, 'I was jumping up to reach some moss in a tree for Davos' class. I landed wrong and -' he gestured to his ankle with a frown.  
Talisa's expression matched his and she glanced back over her shoulder to Ramsay in the other bed, then her eyes flicked to Gendry before returning to Theon.  
'Are you sure that's what happened? If there was another student involved, you should tell me.'  
Theon shook his head. 'Jon was there when it happened. It was only the two of us. Ramsay wasn't even around at that point. Actually, when he did arrive, he started to take the pain away …'  
Theon's voice trailed off as both of their gazes focussed on him with new intensity.  
'Ramsay?' Gendry asked.  
'You gave him permission to touch you?' Talisa asked, face troubled.

He looked away, feeling as though he'd committed some major crime. 'I was in a lot of pain,' he mumbled, completely avoiding the question of when he'd started thinking of Bolton as _Ramsay_ again. Talisa hummed, but didn't say anything further. Then she laid her wand against his ankle and murmured ' _Brackium Emendo_ '. He felt a momentary flare of bright, hot pain, and then a grating twist and grind of bones. And then it was over and the pain was gone. Talisa pulled his boot from his foot and felt around, nodding to herself, seemingly satisfied. Then she murmured another charm and a cooling sensation flowed over his still-swollen joint.  
'Right,' she said. 'You're healed but your ankle still went through a serious injury. I want you to rest it until tomorrow morning. I would keep you here but -' She glanced back over her shoulder again.  
'Mr Waters, can you help Theon back to the Gryffindor common room?' She asked. Then she turned her gaze to Theon. 'I want you in a chair or in bed, you hear me. No other options.'  
Theon just nodded. Sleep sounded good to him.

He pulled his boot back on and then Gendry helped him slip down from the bed. He put his foot gingerly onto the floor, but it held his weight without too much difficulty and he shrugged off Gendry's offer of assistance. They made their way slowly to the door. Before he passed through it, Theon glanced back over his shoulder. Ramsay was watching him. The rage and pain from earlier was gone from his face. Now he just looked calm … And maybe disappointed to see Theon go. He held the other man's gaze for a moment longer, that odd guilt flaring in him again, and then turned away.  
Once they were out of earshot of the Hospital Wing, Theon turned to Gendry, 'I want to go to the ship. I want to make sure Jon's okay.'  
Gendry hesitated, 'He's probably not there yet. I think Davos said it was going to take a fair while to sort out what they were going to do about Ghost.'  
'I don't care,' Theon said. 'I want to be there when he gets back.'

The walk across the grounds made him feel more tired than anything else. His ankle was throbbing faintly by the time they got to the lake shore. Gendry motioned him to climb in and they set off rowing, the only sound the slap of the water against the small boat. Gendry looked worried, Theon thought. He wondered what would happen to Ghost. He knew how close Jon was to the animal. He'd seen them together a number of times when he and Jon had been training out in the privacy of the woods. If something happened to the wolf … he pushed that thought away.

They bumped up against the side of the ship and Gendry held the small boat steady as Theon reached for the rope ladder.  
'Will you be okay getting up that?' He asked in concern, clearing reflecting on the Healer's instructions.  
Theon snorted and didn't bother to answer. He swung himself quickly up the ladder, barely needing to use his bad foot as he pulled himself up, hand over hand. After Gendry had climbed up behind him, Theon said a quick thanks and turned to make his way down into the ship. He didn't want to be around other people anymore. He just wanted to be in Jon's room, waiting for him to come back. Gendry seemed to understand, and didn't stop him.

In Jon's room he closed the door behind himself and kicked off his shoes. He didn't hesitate before lying down on Jon's bed, feeling comforted by the scent of the other man on the sheets. He rolled onto his side and then shifted, feeling something digging into him. He rolled back to his back and then dug into his pocket, pulling out the small journal. He moved to put it on the table beside Jon's bed, but something stopped him. He felt strangely reluctant to let go of it. Instead he shuffled to the end of the bed and reached for one of the quills Jon had scattered across his desk, then he moved back up to the head of the bed and arranged Jon's pillows behind him as he opened the book to a blank page. Maybe writing down what had happened and how he was feeling would help him to feel a bit more relaxed about it all. He felt so fuzzy lately, full of thoughts and emotions that didn't feel right. The decision to write seemed to sink within him with a deep sense of rightness, calming him, and he dipped the quill in the ink pot beside him and began to scratch away at the page.

_January 28th_  
 _So much has happened. So much has changed. And I feel like it's all my fault._ As he wrote the words, they seemed to glow brightly against the page for a second. The sense of guilt, the heaviness of responsibility suddenly crashed into him with much more weight. This _was_ his fault. Jon was going to blame him. Jon was going to hate him. He felt his heart beat faster and the sick unhappiness of that thought swirl through him. He returned his quill to the page.  
 _I have to do something to fix this. I have to make it right. Jon will never forgive me if Ghost is hurt because of me._ As he wrote, he wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to fix it. If only it wasn't Ramsay who had been bitten. If only it was someone who could be _reasoned_ with. As that thought came into his mind, a vague plan began to form. He began scribbling the words down, a stream of consciousness scrawl that he was barely aware of. It was like his thoughts were flowing directly into the journal.  
 _I can fix this. Ramsay will listen to me. He says he's changed. He says he doesn't want to hurt people. I just have to make him see how much this will hurt Jon. I have to make him see that he needs to say he doesn't want Ghost punished anymore. He'll listen to me. I know he will. He's changed. He said he's changed._ As he scribbled, the rightness of the idea sank into him. He just had to talk to Ramsay. If he talked to Ramsay, everything would be okay.

He was just thinking about whether he should go now - talk to Ramsay now - when the door swung open and Jon stepped in. The other man's face lit up in relief when he saw Theon and his shoulders slumped as tension left him.  
'You're here. Thank the Gods. I was so worried when you weren't in the Hospital Wing and then no one from Gryffindor could tell me if you were in the tower.' He moved over to the bed, dropping down beside Theon and kicking his own shoes off as he curled his feet up onto the bed and lay down against Theon's shoulder, breathing out a sigh. Theon saw him glance down at the journal still open in his lap, and he closed it with a snap, somehow not wanting to share that with Jon. He slipped it back into his pocket and moved the quill and ink to the bedside table. Jon seemed to lose interest, bringing one arm around Theon and shifting so he was half lying on his side, head rubbing against Theon's chest for a moment.

'Are you okay?' He asked, voice a deep rumble. 'Did Talisa fix your ankle.'  
'I'm fine,' Theon said. 'How I am's not important. What's happening with Ghost?'  
Jon propped himself up on one elbow so he was looking Theon in the eye. 'It _is_ important,' he said. 'I was so worried when you hurt yourself. And then when we came back to the clearing and Bolton was there!' His face hardened. 'What was he doing? Did he hurt you?'  
Theon shook his head and then hesitated. He didn't want to tell Jon that Ramsay had been taking away his pain. He had a feeling Jon would just blow up about how he shouldn't have let the other man touch him and it was just a trap … but why would that have been a trap? He couldn't think past the conflicting thoughts, instead he returned to his original question.

'What's going to happen to Ghost?'  
Jon's face fell and he buried his head in Theon's chest again, arm tightening around him.  
'They're holding him in a pen at Davos' place. While they find out more about "the incident".' His voice was bitter. He obviously felt Ghost hadn't done anything wrong. 'They're talking about getting someone out from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures out to assess him. Bolton's already sent word to his father about the whole thing. Having the Minister for Magic putting pressure on the investigation isn't going to do anything good for Ghost.'  
At this, Jon paused, drawing in a shaky breath, rubbing his cheek against Theon's chest again.   
'I tried to calm him down. To explain what was going on. But he's not a pet, damn it. He's a wild animal. He shouldn't be kept in a cage. He'll go mad if they keep him in a cage.' His voice was an anguished whisper on the last words and Theon felt his resolve firm. He had to fix this. He had to speak to Ramsay. He made to sit up, but Jon's arm tightened around him.

'Stay,' he whispered, voice small. 'I need - I can't do this without you here.'  
Theon subsided, though there was still a sense of urgency in him. He needed to speak to Ramsay. Ramsay could make this all go away. He couldn't bear to see Jon in pain.  
Jon lifted his head again, moving closer to Theon. 'I need - everything feels so wrong lately. I need something good.' In his eyes was a question that Theon thought he would never not answer. He didn't bother with words, instead he leaned forward so that Jon's mouth met his. The other man closed his eyes, letting out a breath of sound, and then pushed forward, licking lightly against Theon's lip before drawing back slightly and then kissing him again and again. Theon's arms moved around Jon and he pushed gently at him. Jon moved immediately to lie between his legs, deepening the kiss as he did so. 

Theon let out a small moan to feel the other man lying hot and solid against his body. Jon bit at his lower lip and then kissed the bite away. Theon pulled his good hand back up to tangle it in Jon's dark curls. Jon deepened the kiss, licking his way into Theon's mouth and rolling his hips against Theon as he did so. Theon groaned at the sensation, feeling heat run through him, feeling the beginnings of his arousal hardening. He could feel Jon responding in the same way.  
He breathed Jon in, revelling in the taste of him and the touch of him. He would be happy to do nothing but kiss the other man all day. But it seemed Jon had other ideas. He moved back slightly, kissing Theon's neck as his hands slipped between them to push Theon's robes open. Theon moved his head to the side to give Jon access, the scrape and slide of Jon's teeth against his skin bringing a gasp of pleasure to his lips. Then Jon's hands were on his trousers, fumbling at the button and fly until he had both open and could reach inside. Theon hissed out a breath at the feeling of the other man's hand on him and he felt himself rapidly hardening in response.

Jon moved back up to Theon's mouth, pressing his tongue inside as he began to fist Theon's cock, a slide that had him shuddering and crying out. He kissed Jon back, hungrily, moaning as the other man rubbed a thumb over the sensitive head of his cock. Jon kept that up for a few more moments before he released Theon and sat back on his knees. Theon lay back on the pillows, panting, clothes in disarray and cock standing hard and red, desperate to be touched again. Jon's eyes devoured him, full of need and want. Theon felt new heat furl through him and his cock twitched in response to the look Jon was giving him. Knowing the effect he had on the other man made him feel powerful. In control.

Jon shrugged his leather jerkin off his shoulders and dropped both hands to the laces of his pants, not taking his heated gaze off Theon as he did so. He unlaced himself and then reached inside his pants, pulling his own cock out, pumping up and down it with a few quick strokes that made his eyes flutter for a second as he bit his lip. He looked gorgeous and Theon wanted to feel the other man against him again, wanted Jon's mouth on his skin.

He reached out towards Jon, but the other man was already moving to cover him again, mouth crashing down on Theon's, tongue pushing its way inside. Theon met his kiss hungrily and then moaned as Jon shifted position and he felt the hard, hot length of the other man's cock rub against his. Jon moaned too and rolled his hips, grinding down against Theon. Their kiss turned fiercer and Jon rubbed against him again and again. Then he drew back for a second, looking down at Theon.  
'Can I?' he rasped, hovering a hand over both of their straining cocks. Theon nodded, a jolt of heat going through him at the thought and then he reached for Jon's hand, licking hot, wet, stripes up his palm. Jon drew in a sharp breath at the feeling of Theon's tongue against his skin, but as soon as Theon released him, he dropped his hand to wrap it around both of their cocks, rubbing up and down in a delicious slide.  
'Fuck,' Theon punched out, unable to stop himself from pushing his hips up into Jon's grip. Jon's hand tightened and he sped up the movement, fisting up and down both of their shafts in a fast, desperate movement. His kisses turned deeper too, harder, as though he was trying to lose himself in Theon. The idea spurred Theon's desire higher and he could feel his release building quickly. He ran his hands over Jon's shoulders and down his back, cursing the clothes that were in between them. Jon thrust against him, hand and body and mouth all moving in an incredible grind that Theon never wanted to end. He pulled Jon closer to him, wrapping his legs around the other man's.  
Jon broke the kiss, hand moving faster as he muttered into Theon's skin, 'You feel so good. Fuck Theon. Never wanted anyone like I want you.'

The words and Jon's wrecked voice threw Theon over the edge. He felt his release surge through him and he bucked his hips against Jon's hand as he cried out and felt himself come, hot and fast. Jon moaned at the sensation, fisting against Theon's cock a few more strokes, before he let go and drew back to his heels, looking down at Theon while he pumped his own cock faster still, gasping and panting. Theon could see his own come dripping over Jon's fist and the image made him groan with want.  
Jon bit his lip, staring down at Theon with hot, dark eyes before he tensed and cried out, come spilling over his clenched fist. After a moment, he slumped forward against Theon. Theon brought his arms up around Jon, holding him loosely as they both recovered from the intensity of their releases. 

After a moment Jon fumbled blindly for his wand and mumbled a cleaning charm, which tingled over both of them. They both made a half hearted attempt to straighten their clothing and then Jon pushed Theon gently back onto the bed, moving forward until he was resting his head on Theon's chest. He was still and quiet and Theon thought he'd gone to sleep, then Jon murmured, 'You'd tell me, wouldn't you, if something was wrong?'  
Theon glanced down at the top of Jon's head, where it rested against his chest.   
'Of course,' he whispered, pushing away the snake of guilt that wormed its way through him. Nothing was wrong. He was going to fix everything. Jon relaxed against him and moved to the side a little, eyes closed. He was soon asleep. 

Theon watched Jon sleep for a while. He looked so much younger, more peaceful in sleep. Theon resolved again to do what he could to remove Jon's pain. Slowly, quietly, he slipped out of the bed, pulling his shoes back on and pausing only to write a quick note to Jon.  
 _Going back to the castle to sleep before I'm missed. See you tomorrow. T_  
He cast one last glance back at the figure lying quietly on the bed and then he turned, slipping out the door, to make his way back up to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Questions? :P


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Ramsay arc is so much fun. It's 12.30am and I don't even care :p

Theon's thoughts were scattered all over the place as he stepped back inside the castle. He couldn't seem to bring them back into any sort of order - to stop and think. He just had to make things right. He hurried through the entrance way, belatedly noticing the late hour. A part of him was pleased by that. It would make finding Ramsay easier. He followed a familiar path, down into the bowels of the castle, barely having to think as his feet took him the way they had so many times before. At the final branch of the corridor, he moved back into the darkness of an alcove and pulled out his wand.

He tapped his robes, whispering, ' _Colovaria_ ', and looking down to see the deep red of the lining turn an emerald green. Then he turned his wand on himself, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes before whispering, ' _Crinus Muto_ '. He pulled a strand of hair in front of his face to check it had gone from sandy brown to black. Then he paused, a sick swirl moving through him as he thought about the final spell he needed to perform. Ramsay had first taught him to do this at the start of fifth year - change his appearance so that he could sneak into the Slytherin rooms in the dungeons below the castle. It was only later that he found out whose face Ramsay had taught him to take … only later that he found out about Ramsay's younger brother - Domeric. Poor, squib Domeric, who was the secret shame of the Bolton House, hidden away by his father. It was only later that Ramsay had made him keep this face on, sometimes at night … when he would speak another name into the darkness as he played his games …

Theon pushed the thought away. He couldn't let his mind wander down those paths. He couldn't let himself be distracted from what he was here to do. He had to make things right. He took a deep breath and spoke the final words, ' _Faciem Muto_ '. He winced as he felt his features shift subtly, his cheeks and chin filling out, his brow thickening. He ran one hand over his new features, pushing back the shudder that wanted to run through him, and then stepped out of the shadows.

A group of third year Slytherins were coming down the corridor, arms full of books like they'd just finished at the library. Theon stepped in behind them and none of them gave him a second look. Then he was through the doors and once more standing in the Slytherin common room. He looked around at the ornately carved furniture, the sumptuous finishes, the green globed lights hanging from the ceilings and the large, wire-framed windows that showed the bottom of the lake. They were strange lights glimmering in the darkness of the lake now. For a moment, Theon was tempted to go over and have a closer look. The windows into the lake had always been his favourite thing about the Slytherin rooms. For a while he'd wished he'd been sorted into Slytherin house for that reason alone. He forced himself to look away though, and moved slowly across the common room floor, heart pounding louder in his chest with every step. He still remembered the way to Ramsay's room. Of course he did. He doubted it would have changed. For years now, he'd had his own room - he'd pushed his old roommates into the surrounding rooms, and no one had ever done anything about it. And so it had stayed. Ramsay's space. For Ramsay to do whatever he wished. 

For a second Theon had a flash of memory. Of begging in those rooms. Of screaming … of no one being able to hear him through the wards and charms that layered the walls. He almost stopped. Almost turned away. But then the memory was gone. It sank back down into his subconscious, slipping from his grasp effortlessly. He felt some of his anxiety fade with it, and his fingers stroked a soothing pattern against the edge of the journal in his pocket.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the ornately carved door and his fist was raised to knock. A voice called, 'Enter,' on his second tap and Theon swung the door open. Ramsay was reclining against the head of his bed, wearing trousers and a dark, silk shirt, with a book open across his knees. His pale eyes flicked up to see who had entered his rooms and for a second - when he saw Theon's transfigured face - confusion, followed by a dark spark of need, flashed across his visage. Both were gone before Theon had even really registered they were there. Ramsay had obviously figured out what was going on, because he snapped the book shut and slid off the side of his bed, approaching Theon, who was still standing in the open doorway rooted to the spot. He smiled as he took a final step closer to Theon, reaching behind him to pull the door closed. Theon swallowed heavily and Ramsay straightened up to look at him, still standing closer than Theon thought was necessary.

'Hello, Theon,' he murmured, smile widening. 'What a surprise to see you … here.' Theon nodded, heart beating faster. He curled his hand around the book in his pocket, willing himself to calmness. He had to say the right things here. Do the right things.  
Ramsay stepped back, gesturing to the small couch that sat along one wall of his room. 'Do you want to sit?' he asked. 'Glass of wine?'  
Theon shook his head to the wine but moved over to the couch, sitting heavily, feeling as though his knees wouldn't support him much longer.  
Ramsay moved over to the couch as well, sitting down with his body angled towards Theon, so that their knees were nearly touching.  
'What brings you here, Theon?' Ramsay asked, one eyebrow arched. 'Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course, but I do find myself … caught unawares.'

Theon swallowed again, trying to get past the dryness in his throat. 'I - ' he started. 'I've come to -' He glanced across at Ramsay, not knowing how to say it. He didn't want the other man to fly into a rage. He knew what Ramsay could be like. How did he need to say it?  
Ramsay seemed to sense his growing panic. He reached out slowly, laying a hand on Theon's knee, and rubbing a small, soothing circle with his thumb. To Theon's surprise, he started to calm down. He could feel himself relaxing under the touch.  
'It's okay, Theon,' Ramsay was saying. 'Anything you've come to say is fine. I won't be mad. I promise.' He paused and then said, 'And please, drop the charms. I'd like to see you, not my dear brother.'

Theon nodded, deciding to trust the words - feeling like he could trust what Ramsay was telling him.  
He cleared his throat, whispered the counter charms and felt his features return to normal. Then he started again, 'I - I've come to ask you to - to let Ghost go. He - please don't ask for him to be killed.'  
Ramsay's hand stilled and suddenly his face was colder, harder.  
His tone, when he spoke, was still conversational, pleasant. But now it had an edge to it.  
'Why, Theon,' he said, voice chiding. 'You haven't even asked how I am. You haven't enquired about my grievous wounds at the mercy of that animal.'  
Theon felt his heart stutter back into life, its beat ratcheting up. 'I'm - I'm sorry. I didn't mean -'  
'That's okay,' Ramsay said, interrupting him with a raised hand. His face was calm again, whatever brief storm seemed to have passed over it was gone now. He smiled. 'I understand. You're just concerned for your … friend.' His lip curled slightly - almost involuntarily - at the last word. 'It's something I've always admired about you, Theon. Your loyalty. Once you choose who you want to give it you, your loyalty is almost unbreakable. Isn't it.' The look on Ramsay's face now had a hint of knowing laughter to it, as if he was in on some joke Theon couldn't even comprehend.

Theon felt his head spinning, as he tried to keep up with Ramsay's conversation changes. He had a feeling they weren't talking about Jon anymore.  
Ramsay kept speaking, watching Theon with his pale eyes, 'I would like to do this for you, Theon. I really would. But that animal attacked me. You saw it. It wouldn't be right to let a vicious beast like that loose. Who knows who it could hurt next. This is for the best of everybody. You must see that.' His tone was reasonable. Lulling. Theon felt himself nodding along. Agreeing. Ghost _had_ attacked Ramsay. And he hadn't been doing anything to provoke it. Maybe it was for the - As he thought that, an image of the anguished devastation on Jon's face flashed into his mind and he felt the memory of Jon's pain and his need to fix it flood through him.  
He shook his head, as though trying to clear it. 'No,' he said. 'Please. Ghost doesn't deserve to die. Send him away. Send him home. But please, don't ask them to kill him. They'll listen to you!' Theon could hear himself beginning to babble, beginning to slip back into the familiar pattern of trying - trying so very desperately to get Ramsay to change his mind. It wouldn't work. It never worked.

To his surprise, Ramsay was silent, watching him, considering his plea. Theon trailed off into silence and then Ramsay spoke again. 'Why should I do this, Theon? I have no love for the animal. Why should I ask anyone to spare it?'  
Theon felt his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He scrambled for a reason. For something - anything - Ramsay could want in return for sparing for Ghost.  
'I'll -' he swallowed. He had to make this right. 'I'll - what do you want me to do? I'll do anything. Just please ask them not to hurt Ghost.'  
Ramsay's eyes lit up at Theon's words but his expression smoothed quickly. 'I'm sure I could change my story,' he said, after a moment, 'Say I provoked the brute or something.' 

He considered Theon a moment longer, caught the flash of relief that flooded through his whole body. Then Ramsay changed the subject abruptly.  
'You should stay the night,' he said, gaze focussed on Theon.  
Theon felt his whole body stiffen - he didn't - he couldn't -  
Ramsay held up both hands in a soothing gesture. 'Not like that. I'll transfigure the couch, will only take me a second. You look tired is all. I'll feel better if I know you've had a good nights sleep.'  
Theon felt unease spreading through him at the idea, and he opened his mouth to object, but Ramsay's pale eyes were still looking into his, and he remembered the words of a moment ago, _I'm sure I could change my story_. He closed his mouth and nodded, resigned. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe he could just sleep and in the morning he could leave.

Ramsay smiled at his agreement and gestured with one hand that Theon should stand. He waved his wand and murmured a few words and the small couch spread into a single bed, bumping a side table out of the way as it did so. Ramsay moved over to his bed and gathered one of his pillows and a blanket from it, and brought them over, arranging them neatly over the bed, and plumping the pillow, before turning to Theon with a wide smile.  
'There,' he said, brightly. 'Now you'll sleep like a baby.'  
Theon glanced at the bed and then away.  
'Do you want a pair of my pyjamas to sleep in?' Ramsay asked, and Theon shook his head, hoping desperately that Ramsay wouldn't push the issue. He didn't.  
'Suit yourself,' he shrugged. Then he smiled and stepped in closer, pulling Theon into a hug that he wasn't expecting. He stiffened, hands by his sides, but Ramsay was already drawing away before he could react further. As he did, he murmured in Theon's ear, 'Goodnight, Theon. Sleep well.'

Theon lay down in the bed that smelt like Ramsay and tried desperately to ignore the fact that the other man was lying a few scant metres away from him. Ramsay turned the lights out and Theon rolled to his side, put his back against the stone wall and stared out into the darkness.

The milky dawn was filtering in through the lake water in Ramsay's window before he dared to relax.

 

\----

 

Theon was in a daze as he hurried back through the castle to the Gryffindor common room. He hadn't slept at all the night before and that combined with the pain and injury of the previous day and the emotional toil that followed, had him on a knife edge. He was barely aware of his surroundings, lost inside the swirl of thoughts in his head. He didn't know what Ramsay wanted from him - what he would ask from Theon in exchange for Ghost's life … but he knew whatever it was he would give it.

A figure pacing back and forth in front of the portrait of Fat Walda brought Theon up short. He must have made some sort of a sound because Jon whirled to face him, happiness moving across his face, followed quickly by confusion. He hurried up to Theon.  
'Hey,' he greeted, moving in for a quick hug in the deserted corridor. Theon wanted to cling to him, but all he could think about was the fact that the last one to hug him was Ramsay, and that he still smelled of Ramsay's sheets and Ramsay's room. He didn't protest when Jon stepped back.

'What are you doing up so early?' Jon asked, looking him up and down with concern.  
Theon's mind raced. He hadn't thought about what he would tell Jon. Hadn't thought he would see him this early in the day.  
'I - ah - I couldn't sleep,' he lied, feeling the words coil sourly in his gut. 'Thought a walk might make me feel better.'  
Jon frowned, looking him up and down again. 'Are those the robes you were wearing yesterday?'  
Theon looked down at himself. 'Maybe? I don't know. I just - I had a bad dream and I just threw something on. I just wanted to get out.'  
Jon's expression softened at the mention of bad dreams, 'Would it help to talk about it?' he offered.  
Theon shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'No. I just want to forget about it. I - I should shower. Get ready for class and stuff. Will you wait here?'  
Jon nodded, 'Of course. Walda will be happy for me to stay a little longer, I'm sure.' The woman in the portrait simpered at Jon and Theon gave him the ghost of a smile.

Jon looked tired too, he noticed, as though he hadn't slept well either. Theon desperately wanted to tell him that things would be okay with Ghost, and that he didn't need to worry, but he couldn't think of any way to do so without explaining the whole mess, and he was sure Jon wouldn't see it the same way he did. Jon would just have to wait a little longer to hear Ghost's fate.

\-----

Their first class for the day was Defence. Despite the shower and the change of clothes, Theon was barely able to focus on the class. Jon was still giving him concerned looks as Professor Lannister explained to them the next set of non-verbal spells they would be expected to master for their exams. He tried to pull his foggy brain together.

'We will be working on the stunning spell today,' the Professor said, looking around the classroom with his one bright green eye and one swirling blue. 'Remember, as with all non-verbals. It's about wand movement and _intent_. You have to think about the spell you want to achieve. You have to focus on that and nothing else. The last thing you want to do is miscast and hit someone with a tickling jinx instead of a stunning spell, eh Mr Greenhands,' Tyrion said, smacking his hand down onto his desk with a loud bang that had Lommy Greenhands jump in his seat and jerk a line through the picture he'd been idly doodling on his parchment.

'Now, pairs, and begin. Remember to cast at medium strength. We don't want any hospital visits today. Those who are being cast at, I want to see a good, strong _non-verbal_ Protego from you.' His gaze moved over the class, tracking every student, 'I'll be watching,' he said, as his blue eye swirled madly.  
Theon paired up with Jon like normal and Jon took one look at him before saying Theon should be the one to cast the stunning spell and he would work on his shield charm. Theon knew Jon was doing it because he thought Theon was too weak to block a stun right now. Part of him wanted to protest, the other part of him didn't have the energy to do anything but nod.

He tried to pull his scattered thoughts together and focus on the spell he wanted. He pointed his wand and thought the word, _Stupefy_. Jon made the sharp movement of the _Protego_ charm in turn, but there was no need. Theon hadn't managed to create a spell at all. He sighed and raised his wand again. Jon gave him an encouraging look.  
He still hadn't managed to produce even a weak light when the Professor moved over to assess their progress. He took one look at the both of them, frowned and said, 'See me after class, Mr Greyjoy. Mr Snow.' Then he moved to the next pair. Theon sagged. He'd been struggling to keep up in a number of his classes lately … and now it seemed Defence was in danger too.

However when the class ended and Professor Lannister took them to one side, it wasn’t to berate them for their lack of progress on the spells. Instead he sat them down in some vacant chairs and looked between them, a slight frown on his face.  
'The second Challenge is three weeks from now,' he said, voice grave. Theon felt a jolt of anxiety run through him at the reminder. It had all but slipped his mind with everything else going on. Beside him, he saw Jon stiffen and frown in turn.  
The Professor looked between them with eyes that missed nothing, 'Have you made any progress with your eggs?' he asked.

Jon was already shaking his head, when Theon opened his mouth, pushing aside the tiredness, 'Actually,' he said, and both of them turned to focus on him. 'I - ah - I'd had an idea about something … we could try.'  
The Professor looked at him with an eyebrow raised and Jon's face just became more confused.   
'I was just … thinking about the egg … and looking out at the lake … and something. Something made me thinking maybe we should put them in water.' He reddened in a mixture of embarrassment at the crazy suggestion and shame to be lying to Jon _again_ about where he'd gotten the information from. He didn't really expect the idea to be anything more than a trick, but to his surprise, Tyrion's face lit up and he reached out to clap Theon on the shoulder.  
'Good lad,' he said, pride in his voice. 'Excellent idea.'

Theon tried not to let his shock show. Jon's expression changed from confusion to happiness and he leaned across to give Theon a brief, one-armed hug. Theon saw the Professor over Jon's shoulder, looking between them, a spark of understanding blooming in his eyes, but he didn't comment.  
'Well,' Tyrion said. 'I'll leave you to it lads. The sooner the better, ey?'  
They both nodded and stood to leave.

On the way to the next class, Jon turned to Theon, a smile of happiness on his face.  
'That's brilliant thinking, Theon. Well done! Where do you want to dunk them? Just the lake?'  
Theon shook his head, thinking what the hell, he may as well go all in. 'There's a prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor,' he said. 'Water will be warm there at least.'  
Jon nodded, a spark of interest in his eyes at the thought of baths. Theon couldn't bring himself to even picture a bath with Jon right now. The other man must have seen the exhausted twist of emotions across his face, because he murmured, 'Tomorrow after classes? You need to sleep tonight. I'm worried about you.'  
Theon nodded, rubbing a hand over his face, murmuring, 'Yeah. Let's go tomorrow. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo we're making slow, inching progress towards the second challenge ... You know, the whole overarching plot of this book/ my adaption lol. 
> 
> Oops


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm nervous about this one ...
> 
> Also, slight non-con/ sexual pressuring warning.

Somehow Theon managed to drag himself through the rest of his classes, though he didn't think he actually took in a single piece of information. He'd barely slept for the past three nights and as the day wore on, he was finding it harder and harder to focus on where he was and what he was doing. It was like there was a hazy barrier between him and everyone else. He saw Jon looking at him with concern more than once, but he couldn't even manage to raise the energy to reassure the other man. It didn't seem important. Nothing did. 

He picked listlessly at his dinner that night, barely able to taste the few mouthfuls he could choke down. Conversation was flowing around him, but it was a muted buzz, barely registering. He thought he heard Ghost's name mentioned and looked up, shaking his head to try and clear it as he looking around at the anxious, worried faces. He wanted to tell them all it was okay, that he'd fixed it with Ramsay - that Ghost wasn't going to be punished for defending Theon ... But thoughts about how this was his fault to start with sent his mood spiralling back down and he felt the sick churn of guilt in his stomach. What must Jon think of him? What must they all think? They probably all hated him, but were just too kind to tell him to fuck off. He looked back down at his plate again, happy to let the fog drag him back under this time. Happy not to have to think. To feel.  
He didn't know how much later it was when he felt someone's hand on his arm. He looked over, slowly. Robb was sitting beside him with a deep frown of concern on his face.  
'Theon, are you okay? You look terrible.'  
Theon tried to muster a smile and pull himself up out of the fog of numbness, but it swirled around him, resisting his efforts and he knew his expression was more of a grimace.  
'I'm fine,' he mumbled, looking down and continuing to pick at his food. 'Just need to sleep.'  
Robb kept his gaze steady on Theon. 'You're not fine,' he said, authority in his voice. 'I think you should go to the Hospital Wing.' His hand tightened on Theon's shoulder as he said, 'Come on, I'll help you.'

Theon was pulled back slightly and his hands dropped from the table, to his lap, one thudding down on top of the journal in his pocket. He felt its hardness under his palm and suddenly the fog parted and he was angry. Furious at perfect Robb Stark, the Golden Boy and his presumption that he knew what was best for everyone. He shook off Robb's hand roughly, 'I'm fine!' he snapped, pushing himself to his feet. 'Back off, will you.'  
He saw the shocked looks on the faces of everyone around him and then caught the glance that Robb shared with Jon, the one that seemed to communicate confirmation of some secret message. 

The look fired his anger higher. He didn't know why he was so angry all of a sudden. It was like all the fear and stress was bundling up inside him, bursting for an outlet. Without even thinking, he turned his gaze to Jon. 'You can back the fuck off too,' he growled. 'I don't need you babying me all day long. I can look after myself perfectly well.'  
Jon's look changed to hurt with a tinge of disbelief. It was that sentiment - Jon's complete inability to believe Theon could look after himself - that drove him from the table. Jon didn't know shit about him. Didn't know what he'd been thought, what he'd done to look after himself his whole life.  
He clenched his jaw and turned, striding away from Jon, away from them all. 

Pale eyes from across the hall watched him leave. 

When he got back to his room, Theon jerked the hangings around his bed closed and lay on his side, closing his eyes. He just needed to sleep, just an hour or so and then he'd be okay. He could get back up after a bit of sleep and get some of his Transfiguration homework done. Just a little bit of sleep and then he'd feel more like himself.  
But sleep didn't come. He lay awake on his bed. Tired. So damnably _tired_. It was hard to concentrate. Hard to think straight. His head was a swirl of thoughts and emotions. He'd yelled at Jon. He shouldn't have yelled at Jon. Should he? No. Jon was upset. Jon was worried about Ghost. He didn't know … didn't know that Theon was going to make things right. Theon would do what it took.

That thought sent a sliver of unease through him. What would it take. What did Ramsay want from him … whatever it was, he would do it. For Jon he would do it. Jon would do the same for him … wouldn't he? 

Theon curled more tightly in on himself as he thought of the way Jon had been since school came back, of how he'd avoided Theon's touches. _Would_ Jon do the same for him? Or was Theon reaching again. Was he just fooling himself to think that someone like Jon Snow was actually with him for more than a quick fuck … but they hadn't had a fuck, had they?  
Theon frowned, his thoughts swirling in a confused pattern. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Theon wasn't giving Jon what he wanted. He just had to do the right things for Jon, and then Jon would want him. Jon would feel the way Theon felt. He could make everything right.

Theon sat up, pushing back to the headboard. He heard a rustle of paper as he nudged his pillow backwards. He reached back slowly, only the faintest of interest flickering through the dullness in his mind, and pulled out a piece of parchment, sealed with a blob of wax. His heartbeat jumped and then sped up, as he looked down at what was undoubtedly a letter from Ramsay.  
His thoughts began to stir more quickly, to clear. He thought for a moment about putting the letter aside, but his thumb was already slipping under the seal before he'd completed the thought.  
_My Theon,_  
_Thank you for last night. It was a beautiful thing to know that you were once again watching over me through the dark of the night. There's something about you Theon - something that's special. There always has been. That's what attracted me to you in the first place, you know. There was just this look in your eye. I saw it and I_ knew _that we would have so much fun together._  
_I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, my Theon. I don't know if I ever told you these words. I probably assumed you knew them. I assume too much, I know._  
_I want you to know that I am here for you. I will always be here for you. Even when no one else wants you. I will be here._  
_Yours_  
_RRB_

Theon read the letter once, and then again. Ramsay hadn’t said those words before. Even in the 'I'm sorry's' and the 'I love you's', he'd never said that Theon was special. Never said that he was the only one. It couldn't be true, could it? He … there was still that part of him that was Reek - _freak_ … that was not someone who was special, was it?

His fingers traced the words of the letter down the page. Something was wrong about the words. He knew something was wrong. But he couldn't make his thoughts stop swirling long enough to see what it was. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out the small journal, the leather so familiar under his fingertips. He tucked the letter between the pages and leaned across to his bedside table for a quill. Maybe writing out his thoughts would make things clearer. He dipped the tip into the ink and began a quiet scratching, letting his consciousness flow out onto the paper, letting the writing clear his mind of all his thoughts and worries. Ramsay and Jon. Jon and Ramsay. They swirled and blurred in his mind.

Things became clearer as he wrote. With each new word, he could see the way forward. See what he had to do.

\------

Though he barely felt more rested the next day, the crushing fog of numbness had lifted slightly. It left him able to function at least, able to smile at the right times and say the right words. The worried looks from the people around him lessened slightly, and when Theon suggested to Jon after their last class that they should still visit the baths that night to learn more about the golden eggs, Jon hesitated only a moment before agreeing. He seemed pleased to see Theon more like his normal self. Theon was pleased he'd agreed. The baths would be the perfect place. He needed - he needed to do what it took to make sure Jon was his - would stay his. So many things were uncertain right now. He couldn't get his head straight. This - this would fix things. The baths would be the place. 

It was late when they met in the corridor on the fifth floor, Jon having snuck away from the ship and Theon having slipped out of his room without waking anyone. He'd gotten very good at creeping around the castle over the years. _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with sneak_ whispered a voice in the back of his mind. It was one that he hadn't heard in so many weeks.  
Jon gave him a small, almost shy smile as Theon walked up the abandoned corridor towards him. Theon returned it and then stepped right up to the other man and kissed him, tongue sliding between Jon's lips as he pushed Jon back a step, so his back came up hard against the stone wall. Jon stiffened for a moment before he responded, kissing Theon back. Theon pressed his body against Jon's and when the other man's hands came up, tentatively, to his hips, he felt a small flare of triumph. It wouldn't be hard to do what he needed to do. He'd been wanting to for months. He just had to get Jon there ... 

Theon broke the kiss and stepped back, licking his lips in a way that made Jon's breath catch. Yes, he knew the things to do to make someone want him. He'd learned every trick he could so that he could turn a wish for pain into a wish for sex … though often the pain had come anyway. Theon pushed that thought away and counted out the right door. Jon was not like that. Jon was sweet and shy. Sex with Jon would be the same. He just had to make Jon want him. Push him past whatever reason he had for not fucking Theon weeks ago.

Theon murmured, 'Pine fresh' and the door to the bathrooms swung open. They both stepped inside, looking around with increasing surprise. Glowing orbs had lit at their entrance, studded into the walls and roof, and their, dim golden light illuminated a huge space. The floors and walls were marble, and large, stained glass windows dominated one wall. In the centre of the room was an enormous pool, at one end of which was a stand with a hundred spouts extending from it. 

Jon looked around with wide eyes and then nudged Theon and asked, 'How did you get the password for this place? This is so much better than your normal bathroom.'  
Theon shrugged, casually and said, 'It's pretty common knowledge. Plenty of prefects let their friends in.' He was disturbed for the briefest moment by how easy it was getting to lie to Jon, but the thought - and the guilt that came with it - subsided as soon as they had arisen, as though they'd been pulled away from him. And then he felt calm again. Calm and driven.  
Jon looked at him for a moment, but seemed to believe what he'd said and went back to looking around the room in awe. He approached the large pool and looked in. The surface of the water was lapping gently and seemed to be steaming slightly in the cooler night air.

Jon shook the sack that he'd bundled his egg into and laid the golden orb onto the marble beside the bath. The sight of it focussed Theon and he reached into his robes to retrieve his own egg, laying it beside Jon's. Jon looked at him as he stood up, and the look in the other man's eyes - still heated from the kiss at the door - stoked Theon's need, and resolve, higher. Jon bit his lower lip and cast his eyes down.  
'I'm going to -' he gestured away from the pool and moved a half dozen steps back and up a dais, where he began to loosen the ties on his jerkin. Theon watched him for a moment. Watched the way that the light caught at the defined muscles of his stomach and chest as he pulled his shirt up and over his head, letting it drop to the ground at his feet. Then Jon's hands moved to the ties of his pants and he looked up, catching Theon's hot gaze on him. He smiled shyly, but began unlacing them, pulling each strand free slowly before he slid the pants down over his hips and down his thighs. In a few moments he stood naked, the lines of his body hard and strong, defined further by the slowly undulating black lines that caressed his torso. His cock sat heavy between his legs, already thickening slightly under Theon's regard. Jon was perfection made flesh and everything about him stirred Theon's body. He wanted to touch, to taste, to worship every part of Jon's body. No, it would not be hard to push Jon past whatever stupid problem he had and for Theon to do what he needed to do to bind Jon to him. 

The strange feelings and emotions that had gripped him these past days swirled up in him again, stronger now, and he took a few, fumbling steps forward. Jon stepped down off the dais to meet him, and he brushed his lips against Theon' for a brief, tantalising moment, moving out of his grasp as Theon raised his hands.  
Jon looked back over his shoulder, cheeks pinkening as he glanced at his clothes, clearly unable to bring himself to tell Theon he should undress too. Then he took another few steps forward and began to descend into the bath, sighing audibly as the hot water enfolded his body. Theon watched him for a moment longer, watched the play of muscles across his back and shoulders, watched the firm, sinuous movement of his arse as he travelled further down the stairs into the water.

Then he tore his eyes away and stepped up onto the dais, pulling his own robes off and dropping them with Jon's, before stripping his jumper and shirt off in quick succession. He glanced over to see that Jon was near the multitude of taps now, but was watching him with hooded eyes. He smiled as a spike of anticipation moved through him and undid the button of his trousers, letting them fall to his feet as he kicked his shoes off. He stepped away from his clothes and towards the baths, and then hesitated. He had a strange, nagging feeling that he'd forgotten something. He looked back at the pile of clothes, unable to pinpoint the unsettled feeling. He took a small, half-step back towards them and then Jon called out,  
'Everything okay?'  
Theon's head jerked around and he nodded, taking a few quick steps towards the pool, jumping lightly down off the dais. The feeling that he'd forgotten something - that there was something really important he needed to go back for - intensified. But now there was another feeling, something soothing and calm, something that lulled him and lapped at his consciousness. It was calling him towards the pool. He took another step forward, gaze moving up to meet Jon's. As their eyes met, the prickly feeling under his skin receded further and he moved to the edge of the pool. The sense of calm and quiet intensified and he stood on the edge of the marble pool, knowing Jon could see every inch of him, watching as the other man broke his gaze to rake his eyes down Theon's body with agonising slowness. The heat that flared through him caused his cock to twitch to life. There was an echoing agitated twitch in his mind, pushing him - urging him to turn around - but he took a deep breath, put his hands above his head and sprang lightly off the edge of the pool, cutting cleanly through the water on one blissful move.

There was water all around him now and he slid through it, was cradled by it. Suddenly the outside world was gone. The pressure and stress and complex whirl of thoughts was gone. He felt like a darkness had been lifted from him, like there had been a pall over everything he was seeing and doing and he'd only just realised now that it was gone. He floated slowly upwards and breathed in deeply when his face broke the surface. His gaze met Jon's and Theon smiled, wide and happy. Jon's smile echoed it.

Then Jon turned to the taps and began to fiddle with them. Immediately scented bubbles began to pour from the spouts. Large pink hearts popped from one, while fluffy blue clouds floated from another. Jon laughed in surprise and turned on more and more. Theon smiled to watch Jon playing in the multicoloured foam as he moved lazily through the water, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness he hadn't realised he'd missed.

A thought began to creep back into his mind. This was his chance. What better chance for him to get Jon to fuck him - to prove that he would do anything for the other man. It was a whisper of a thought, rather than the pushing demand from earlier, but it made sense to him. Theon glided over to where Jon was still fiddling with the taps, standing in the chest-deep water to press himself against Jon's back. He slid his arms around the other man's body, bringing one hand up to pinch lightly at Jon's nipple and sliding the other around to grasp his cock, now soft again.  
Jon's body was hot, even above the temperature of the water, as he slid with a silken glide against Theon's skin.  
Jon hissed in a quick breath at Theon's touch but didn't move away. Theon bit down on the back of Jon's neck and rubbed at his cock, wanting to make him hard. Wanting to bring Jon to the point where he wouldn't think. Would just want Theon.

Jon twisted in his arms so that he was facing Theon. As Jon's mouth met his, Theon opened immediately under the kiss, pushing his tongue against Jon's. He moved in the water, wrapping his arms around Jon's neck and his legs around Jon's waist. They both gasped as they rubbed quickly-hardening lengths against each other. Theon deepened the kiss and Jon groaned, holding him tighter. Jon's hands slipped down his back, gliding against Theon's skin as they cupped his bare arse. Theon moved his hips forward in a slow, intentional grind. Jon groaned at the sensation and pulled back slightly, nipping at Theon's bottom lip, caressing his arse again and then stilling, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

'We should -' he said, leaning in to kiss Theon again. 'We should listen to the eggs first.' He kissed Theon again, tongue slipping back inside his mouth.  
Theon shook his head, pulling Jon tighter against himself, rolling his hips in a way that made the other man moan into his mouth. 'Later,' he said, tilting his head so Jon could bite hot, sucking kisses down the side of his throat. He had no intention of stopping anything.

\------

Jon was lost in the feeling of Theon's lithe, slick body against his. Like every time they touched, all he could think about was the feel of Theon under his hands, the taste of him in his mouth, the sounds he made as he came undone. It was intoxicating. It was like nothing he'd ever felt. But this time ... something was off. He had a faint alarm bell ringing in the back of his mind, reminding him to stop, to think. Theon had been so strange lately, so distant and moody, and that fucking Bolton bastard had been panting after him like a dog in heat ...

Jon needed to slow things down for a second, to make sure that Theon was ... himself. The other man wasn't normally this … aggressive in what he wanted. But he'd seemed better since he'd dived into the pool, somehow more relaxed, at ease in his own skin. That spark that made him such a fascination to Jon was back - not fully, but so much more present than it had been the last few days. 

'We should -' he said, leaning in to kiss Theon again. 'We should listen to the eggs first.' He kissed Theon again, unable to keep himself from tasting the other man's mouth again, tongue slipping back inside in a delicious slide.  
Theon shook his head, pulling Jon tighter against himself, rolling his hips in a way that drove all rational thought from Jon's mind. Gods but he wanted Theon. He couldn't think straight when the other man was touching him. 

'Later,' Theon murmured, and then he tilted his head and Jon couldn't resist. He began to bite hot, sucking kisses down the side of Theon's throat. Theon rubbed up against Jon again, tilting his lower body up so that Jon's hard cock slipped out from between their bodies and rubbed slickly over Theon's balls and back to the crack of his arse. Jon stiffened in shock at the unfamiliar movement. Part of him wanted to thrust against Theon ... but another part wasn't ready for that ... Not in the bathrooms and not without talking to Theon first. 

He ... Theon must have moved without realising it. He didn't ... He didn't want to do _that_ did he? They hadn't talked about taking the next step and it wasn't like Theon to just spring something on him. Theon knew what sort of experience he'd had in the past.  
Jon was startled out of his racing thoughts when Theon moved his hips again. A deliberate slide this time that had Jon's still-hard cock dragging over Theon's arsehole.  
Then Theon moved to whisper in his ear, 'I made myself ready before I came here.'

Jon stopped moving immediately. He moved back, disengaging gently from Theon's hold and moving over to the edge of the pool. He didn't know what to say. He didn't really want to say anything about what Theon had just been doing ... What if he'd misread the whole situation and Theon didn't want to ... fuck ... what if he just wanted to try something else that Jon had never done before …  
Sometimes when he was around Theon he felt so unsure of himself - so inadequate. He had no experience in any of this ... Not unless you count that one time with Ygritte. All of his experience was in not getting in this position in the first place.  
He cleared his throat awkwardly, not quite able to meet Theon's eyes. The look on the other man's face was confused and Jon didn't want to humiliate himself further by explaining that Theon had surprised him and he didn't really feel like he was ready for ... that, yet.

'So,' he said, running one hand through his wet curls to give himself something to do. 'The eggs?' Theon seemed to shake himself after a moment, his confusion shifting to disappointment before flashing to another emotion Jon couldn't quite capture. Then Theon schooled his face and smiled weakly, gliding over to the edge of the huge bath as well.  
Jon picked up his egg, turning it over in his hands, tracing his fingers over the golden clasp. After a long, searching look at Jon, Theon grasped his as well, hovering it over the water. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but no he made no move to speak.  
'On three?' Jon asked. Theon nodded, taking a deep breath. Jon did the same and then held up his fingers one at a time. On three they both ducked under the surface and released the clasps. Immediately beautiful, delicate voices sang out through the water, a harmony that both eggs were singing perfectly. Jon focused on the words, trying to commit them to memory. Trying to push away the confusion of moments earlier and the feeling that he'd done something wrong. That he should have just gone along with what Theon had planned.

_Come seek us where our voices sound,_  
_We cannot sing above the ground,_  
_And while you're searching ponder this;_  
_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_  
_An hour long you'll have to look,_  
_And to recover what we took,_  
_But past an hour, the prospect's black,_  
_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

At the end of the song Jon pushed his head through the surface and sucked in a great lungful of air, panting for breath. Beside him Theon surfaced more slowly, releasing the last of his breath and drawing in a new one. Jon reflected again how calm Theon always seemed to be, in and around the water. They exchanged looks and then Jon said, 'Again?' Theon nodded and they both ducked back under the water. 

'What do you think it means?' Jon asked, when they surfaced again. He was looking down at his still submerged egg. He realised that his urgent arousal from earlier was fading and was glad. That wasn't what they had come here for. He darted a concerned glance at Theon. The other man had deep circles of exhaustion under his eyes. Jon shouldn't have been encouraging him to do anything in this state. Maybe that was why he'd tried to …

As if to prove that thought, Theon shook his head, the flush of energy the pool had seemed to have given him looked to be fading.  
'Something's going to be taken from us and we have to get it back,' Theon said, passing a hand over his eyes.  
Jon nodded his agreement. 'But where do we have to go to find things whose voices can't be heard above the ground?' he mused.  
As one they turned to look at the water they were still standing in.  
'The Lake,' they said in unison and Jon felt his heart sink. He was going to have to recover something from the Lake. From -  
'Fucking merpeople,' Theon growled.  
Jon looked at him in surprise.  
'They're the only ones down there with voices,' Theon explained briefly, face looking far away. Theon glanced back up to where their clothes were but then pulled his gaze back to Jon's, as though he hadn't meant to look in that direction. 

Jon felt his unease from the last few days begin to filter back in. Something was nagging at him. Something about Theon's behaviour that hadn't felt right from the very beginning.  
'How'd you really know to do this?' Jon asked, gesturing at the eggs in the water, trying to keep his voice casual. He didn't want Theon to react the way he had at dinner the night before.  
Theon hesitated, closing the clasp on his own egg and sitting it back up on the edge of the bath. He seemed to be wrestling with something, before his face cleared and he spoke.  
'I had a letter,' he said, glancing away before looking back to meet Jon's eyes.  
Jon felt his face still into a mask and he repeated Theon's words in a flat voice. 'A letter.' He knew - he _knew_ where this was going and it made him sick with anger at the manipulative bastard that just _would not_ leave Theon alone.  
Theon nodded, 'From Rams- from Bolton.'

Jon felt his heartbeat begin to thud hard in his chest and he looked around immediately, scanning the room, looking for some sort of trap. Suddenly the beautiful, airy bathroom felt like a cage. He felt like he was on display. He made to move out of the pool but Theon grabbed his arm, 'Jon, don't. It's okay. It's not a trap. We've had a great bath. I'm feeling so much better than I have in ages and we know what the clue is now. Please. Don't ruin this.'  
'Theon,' Jon said urgently, gripping the other man's arms, 'Listen to me. You can't trust that animal. He hasn't changed. He will never change. Whatever he's told you. It's lies. It's part of some sick game.'  
Theon was shaking his head, unconsciously is seemed. He was almost distracted, not seeming to even really take in what Jon was saying, instead he was looking over to where their clothes were again. 

Jon seized on the chance to get them out of the bathroom. 'Come on,' he said, moving towards the steps and extending a hand towards Theon. 'Let's get dressed.'  
Theon nodded and moved with him without complaint. As they moved up and out of the water, Jon almost felt like the air was changing around them. It was becoming darker, heavier. He looked around again, on alert now. Something was going on. He stepped out of the pool first and Theon's feet left the water moments after his. Theon's hand tightened convulsively on Jon's as he set his feet back on the cool marble. Jon glanced over his shoulder at Theon, but the other man was looking past him, up at the dais. 

Then Theon was pulling him forward, pulling him back up to where their clothes were. Jon went willingly. Any way to hurry them out of this place that now felt so oppressive. But when they stepped up onto the dais, Theon turned to him, pressing his body against Jon's again, leaning in for a kiss. Jon responded for a moment before he put his hands on Theon's shoulders, looking into his eyes. Theon's gaze was slightly unfocussed and Jon felt his concern rising. Something was badly wrong.  
Theon took another step back towards the clothes lying on the ground, kneeling down and taking Jon with him, pulling at his hand. Jon put his palm on the side of Theon's face, trying to get the other man to focus on him.  
'Theon,' he said gently. 'Theon, we have to go now.'  
Theon shook his head. 'No. No we can't.' He reached forward and Jon didn't realise what was happening until Theon's hand closed over his cock and he began a clumsy stroke, as he leaned in again for a kiss. 

Jon pulled back abruptly, shocked, not understanding why Theon was acting the way he was - how he was managing to so totally misread the situation.  
'Stop, Theon. I don't want to-' he began, but Theon had overbalanced at Jon's sudden movement and went sprawling backwards onto their clothes, his hands flying out to catch himself. One hand landed on top of a book that looked like it had slipped out of the pocket of his robes. As he touched it, Theon's body stiffened for an agonising moment. Then he shook himself and pulled himself to his knees, face cold and blank.  
'You don't want me,' he said, tonelessly. 

\------

As he'd stepped out of the pool, Theon had felt the fog descending again. After the beautiful, blissful clarity in the pools, it was like a weight dragging him down. He felt the tendrils of it inserting themselves back into his consciousness, sliding back into place as though they belonged. He felt that tugging pull again, stronger now, drawing him back towards the dais. He stepped forward, knowing he needed to get back there. He tightened his grip on Jon's hand, pulling him along, not wanting to lose contact with him.

He stepped up onto the dais and the strength of the roiling confusion from earlier hit him, wrapped around him, pushed the thought back into his mind. _Make him take you. Make him yours_. He pressed his body against Jon's leaning into him, pushing his tongue back into Jon's mouth. But Jon pulled away. Like he had in the pool. He pulled away and Theon felt the same dirty shame of rejection. He felt desperation rising in him. Why didn't Jon want him?

He pulled Jon with him, down onto the clothes, trying to focus as Jon lifted a hand to stroke softly down the side of his face. The other man was saying something - but Theon couldn't make it out for the buzzing in his ears, the driving push to _act_.  
He reached for Jon again, hand fumbling. And then Jon was pushing him away. He heard the words echo as if from a distance. 'Stop, Theon. I don't want you.'  
He fell backwards, hands reaching to catch himself. His palm slapped down hard onto the leather cover of the journal. As his skin touched it, he felt a surge of dark triumph. Then a wave of emotion pushed itself inside him, following the well-worn pathways. He felt anger, hate, guilt, disgust, shame. More and more the emotion filled him, pushed everything else aside to make way for itself. It happened in an instant. It felt like a lifetime.  
Jon's words echoed through his mind. _I don't want you_.

He felt so many things become clear in an instant. He would never be enough for a man like Jon Snow. He was broken. Used. Dirty.  
'You don't want me,' he repeated tonelessly. He felt empty now. Hollow. Defeated.  
He didn't look at Jon. Couldn't. Jon was speaking, but the words didn't make sense. Then Jon was shaking him gently, bending his neck to try and get Theon to look him in the eyes.

'Theon,' Jon's voice was tight. 'What is that? Where did you get it?'  
Theon realised Jon was looking down at the journal in his hand. He traced a thumb over the carved initials, _TG_.  
'It was a gift,' he whispered, closing his fingers more tightly around it, suddenly worried that Jon would take it from him. He shouldn't have let Jon see it.  
'A gift from who?' Jon asked. 'How long have you had it?'

Theon just shook his head. 'You don't want me,' he repeated. His emptiness started to shake. Anger started to trickle in. 'I wanted to give myself to you. But you don't want me.'  
Jon was shaking his head, 'No, Theon. It's not like that. Something's wrong with you. We need to get help.'  
The words spiralled round Theon's mind and he felt his breath catch with the hurt. _Something's wrong with you_. He felt like Jon had stabbed him. He couldn't breathe. He had to get away.

Theon began to pull his clothes on, fast and angry, jerking them into place. His hair was still dripping down his neck, but he paid it no mind, keeping one hand grasped around the journal at all times.  
Jon tried to talk with him, still naked, pleading with Theon to 'Just listen, please.' But Theon ignored him, jaw clenched to hold back his pain. He didn't know whether sobs or screams would leave his throat if he opened his mouth. In a matter of moments he was dressed.

Jon reached out for him, but Theon shook him off and took a few steps backwards, out of his reach - towards the door. The other man's touch felt like it had burned him. Jon fumbled in his clothes on the floor and pulled out his wand, moving it towards Theon, expression torn.  
Theon felt his heartbeat ratchet up, fear joining the anger and agony swirling inside him.  
'Don't you _dare_ use your wand on me,' Theon hissed.  
Jon's face was twisted and he hesitated for a long, agonising moment, before his shoulders slumped and he dropped his hand to his side.  
His eyes were full of anguish as he watched Theon go.

Theon pushed out of the door, moving through the castle without conscious thought. He didn't bother to be quiet or hide his passing. Part of him almost hoped old Frey would catch him. Anything to take his mind off what had just happened. Jon didn't want him. Jon would never want him. He would never be good enough for the other man. He was dirty. Used. A cast off. 

He was at the door almost before he knew it, barely knocking before he pushed it open. There was only one person in the familiar room.  
Ramsay looked up and a slow, dark smile spread over his face.  
'Hello, pet,' he said.  
Theon stepped inside and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaaaay, so I've had the bath scene planned for months. It was supposed to be Jon and Theon's first time getting naked and first BJ together. Clearly they got the jump on me and made that happen a lot earlier.
> 
> What it was NOT supposed to be was a chapter full of darkness, angst, cursed diaries and Theon running to Ram. I have only the vaguest ideas of what will happen next but holy hell it's a car wreck.
> 
> Like I said, really nervous about this one .... please tell me what you thought, how it all came across, whether the POV swap half way through worked or not, whether I over did or under did the push for sex (I'm trying to work on the 'they're still only 17' model ... and it's okay for Jon not be be ready...)
> 
> Anyway, enough freaked out rambling. Thanks for reading :D


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Mother of God that was a hard slog. Forgive my typos. Didn't have the energy for a final read through.
> 
> We're back in Jon's head ...

Jon was burning with tension and anxiety when he got back to the ship. He'd been so shocked by Theon's actions and his anger, that he hadn't followed when the other man had run out of the bathroom, and now he was cursing himself. Theon wasn't in his right mind. That was clear. The thought of what he might have done - or where he might have gone - was driving Jon slowly mad. But - short of waking the whole castle - he had no way of finding Theon. He couldn't even get into Theon's damned tower without a Gryffindor to help him and gods knew there wouldn't be anyone wandering around at this time of night.

He hurried down the ladder and into the heart of the ship, moving past his own door to Robb's, banging his clenched fist on it, and then again when his brother didn't answer.  
'Robb,' he called, 'Open the fuck up.'  
There was a sleepy grunt and a thud within and then the wooden door clicked and creaked open. Robb stood there, shirtless, soft, worn pants hung low on his hips, his chest bare. His auburn curls were tousled and he was rubbing one hand over his face.  
'Was' wrong?' he murmured as he blinked at Jon.

Jon pushed past him and into the room, pulling the door shut behind himself.  
'Theon's in trouble,' he said, pacing in the small space, unable to sit still. Robb's gaze sharpened at those words and he bent down to pull a shirt from the floor, slipping it over his head.  
'Where is he? What happened?' Robb asked, looking at the door as though assuming they should be rushing back out it.  
Jon growled in frustration. 'I don't _know_ where he is.' He raked his hands through his tangled curls, still wet from the bath. 'We were in the castle. In the bathroom on the fifth floor - figuring out the damned eggs.'  
Robb's gaze turned knowing for a moment and Jon flushed, anger and shame swirling through him in a sickening mix. 'It wasn't like that. Or it wasn't supposed to be anyway. Theon wanted to - he tried to - .' Jon was at a loss for words and now Robb's look was sharp and hard.  
'Jon - if he made you do something you didn't want to -'  
Jon shook his head, 'No. You don't understand. Something's wrong with him. I mean - he did try - but he's not himself. There's this book and -'

Robb held up his hands in a soothing gesture, then sat on the edge of his bed, patting it. Jon didn't want to sit, but Robb gave him that look that said he knew best.  
Jon went to sit beside him and took a deep breath, trying to still his racing heart and his swirling thoughts.  
'Start at the start, Jon,' he said softly.  
Jon nodded, but before he could start, the door opened and Gendry stepped in, wearing a pair of yellow and black pyjama bottoms and a hoodie with a badger splashed across the front of it.  
'What's going on?' he asked, pulling the door shut. It stopped before he could lock it and they all looked over to see Arya shoulder him out of the way. She was fully dressed, including shoes and looked around at them all, 'Whose arse are we kicking?' she asked, face alert.

Jon looked around at them all and felt some of his panic ease. He wasn't alone. Whatever this was - whatever was going on with Theon, they would be able to figure it out. Somehow.  
He took a deep breath and began to speak.  
'Theon's been strange lately, we've all noticed.' There were nods around the room in response to this. 'Bolton's been sending him notes and finding every occasion to be around him to talk to him or touch him -' For a moment Jon couldn't speak, rage at Bolton's manipulation overwhelming him. He pushed it away. It wasn't helpful now. He could use it later, when he was standing over the other man with his wand in his hand. Jon had never before thought he had it in him to use the _Cruciatus_ … but now …

'So it's worse than that. Tonight, Theon was - he wasn't himself. It was like he was possessed or something. There's this book. It has his initials on it. He says it was a gift. I've seen it once or twice before now. But I didn't pay any attention to it. But tonight. You should have seen him. He was holding it like he would die if it was taken away from him. And when he touched it … he _changed_.' Jon shuddered at the memory. 'It was like everything good in him. Everything happy and strong and everything that makes him … Theon. It was just taken away from him. And he said - he said I didn't want him because we didn't … you know.'  
Jon's voice catches and he sees Gendry and Robb exchange a look out of the corner of his eye, but no one says anything.

'But I _do_. I do want him. I think …. I think I love him,' Jon whispered the last bit, putting his head in his hands. 'I'm so fucking scared right now. If something happens to him …'  
Jon felt Robb put an arm around his shoulders and he focussed on breathing, trying to control his racing thoughts and the swirling fear within him. The others hadn't seen what Theon was like. They hadn't seen the hollowness in his eyes. He'd been on a knife-edge for days. Jon had known it. Why hadn't he done _more_? Why hadn't he pushed Theon to go and see someone. Maybe they could have figured something out before it got this bad.

A little voice whispered in his mind, _Maybe if you had just gone along with what he wanted, none of this would have happened._ Jon pushed it away. That hadn't been Theon. Theon wouldn't have pressured him like that. Something else was going on. It had to be. He remembered the anguish in Theon's face when he had thought Jon was rejecting him. He needed to find Theon. To _explain_.

Arya's voice interrupted the turmoil of his thoughts and he pulled his head up.  
'Let me get this right. Squid boy is being possessed by a cursed diary that the freak gave him. We have no idea where he is and what it might make him do?'  
Silence met her words and then Jon nodded.  
'Right,' Arya said. 'I'll get Shireen on the diary. She knows the library inside and out. If anyone can find out what it is, what it does and how to get rid of it, it will be her.'  
She looked around the room. 'You two,' she nodded at Robb and Gendry, 'need to get that teacher that likes him involved.'  
'Davos,' Gendry said with a nod.  
Arya nodded back, 'No more fucking around.'  
'You,' she said, looking at Jon, 'and me, will find squid boy and make sure he's safe.'

Jon looked at his little sister, took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, pushing himself to his feet. His gaze shifted to meet the grim faces of Gendry and Robb. They both gave him a nod. No one was surprised by Arya taking charge. She always excelled when they played war games back at Durmstrang. There was a reason she'd been allowed to take her marks before she'd turned seventeen after all.  
Gendry disappeared back out the door to get changed and Robb squeezed Jon's shoulder. 'We'll find him,' he said, voice low and comforting. 'And then we'll fuck that Bolton bastard up for good.'  
Jon nodded back and straightened his shoulders. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn't help Theon if he was falling to pieces.  
'Change your clothes,' Arya said. 'Something plain and single coloured.'  
He looked at her for a moment, but she made an impatient shooing motion, and he turned back to his own room.

They all rowed across together and then Gendry and Robb disappeared along the shoreline, towards the small hut at the edge of the water. The moon was full and Jon could see a faint curl of smoke rising from the chimney and up into the still night air. He and Arya hurried up to the castle. Just before the doors, she told him to stop and she pulled her wand out and began moving it over him in a complicated motion, muttering under her breath. Jon forced himself not to fidget. He wanted to keep moving, but Arya wouldn't have stopped them unless it was for something important. He caught a few of the words, some familiar, some not.  
' _Muffliato_ ', ' _Aspectus_ ', ' _Suetus_ '.

Then she turned her wand on herself. With the _Muffliato_ , he found he could barely make out the rest of her words. After the _Aspectus_ , he found it hard to focus on Arya's slight form. His gaze kept wanting to slide sideways, to look past her or beyond her. The last one seemed to have no particular impact though. He frowned as he looked more closely at her, forcing his eyes to rest on her.  
She seemed to sense the question in his face because she grabbed his arm and pulled him through the entrance doors, but at the same time she leaned in close and said ' _Suetus_ is a familiarity spell. While you're wearing it, you look just like someone familiar. An old friend or a distant relative.' Her grin turned vicious. 'You could be anyone. Or no one.'

He nodded, feeling his anxiety ratchet back up now that they were inside.  
'We'll check his room first,' Arya whispered as they moved, swiftly and silently through the corridors. It wasn't a question and Jon didn't bother replying. He _knew_ Theon wouldn't be in there, but it was the most logical place to start.  
The portrait of Fat Walda didn't want to be roused from her sleep and she peered grumpily at them, her eyes slipping away before coming back to rest on them again.  
'And what are you doing out of bed at this time of night?' she demanded. 'I've a mind to tell the Headmaster.'  
'Sorry, Lady Frey,' Arya said, in a gentle voice. 'If you'll just let us in, we won't bother you anymore.'

Fat Walda squinted and then her face softened. 'Of course, love. Oh it feels like an age since I've seen you, little Sarra.' Then she paused and said, as though in regret, 'I'll still need the password though, dearie.'  
'Fairy Lights,' Arya said without hesitation, and the portrait swung open. They stepped silently inside and Jon indicated the way to Theon's room with a nod of his head. His heart began to pound as he ascended the stairs. He let himself feel the tiniest tendril of hope that Theon would be wrapped up in his bed, annoyed at Jon and nothing more.  
Arya cracked open the door he indicated and they stole in. Theon's bed hangings were closed and Jon caught his breath as he reached out with a shaking hand. He drew back one of the curtains and then felt his heart sink as the moonlight flooding through the window revealed and empty and un-slept in bed.

Arya glanced around the room, noting the other sleeping shapes and then she grabbed Jon's arm, pulling him back and out of the room. He tried to push away the despair that was rising in him at further evidence that Theon could be anywhere. 

They stepped back out of the portrait hole and moved down the corridor, away from the sleepy painting. Arya turned to him and he forced his eyes to focus on her face.  
'Theon doesn't know anyone in Hufflepuff, does he?'  
Jon thought for a moment, then shook his head. Theon didn't really interact with anyone much, except for him and Robb and the others, and maybe one or two other students, but no one he would run away to in the middle of the night. Where the fuck could he have gone.  
Arya nodded, 'Right. So we'll forget about the Hufflepuff dorms. We should check the Room of Requirement next and then we need to go via Ravenclaw tower so I can wake Shireen up.' She thought for a moment. 'We should swing by the Hospital Wing just in case.'  
Jon felt a shiver of fear run through him. He didn't want to find Theon in the Hospital Wing. Then he reconsidered. The thought of not finding him at all was so much worse.

They moved quickly and quietly through the castle, neither one troubled by the slight jog. Jon wanted to go faster. He wanted to sprint through the castle and yell the roof in until he found Theon. But he forced himself to follow Arya's lead.  
At the entrance to the room of requirement, they both had a turn at thinking of Theon. No door showed. Jon didn't know whether that meant he wasn't in there or the magic just wouldn't respond to the request. They didn't linger.

At the door to Ravenclaw tower, Arya barely had to pause before answering the riddle that whispered out of the dark, 'What am I?'  
'A question,' she murmured as she stepped inside, gesturing to Jon to wait.  
In a few short minutes, she was back with a sleepy Shireen at her side. Arya cast the same spells over her and Shireen set off in the opposite direction.  
As she left, she gave Jon a sympathetic look and whispered, 'I'll check the library for him while I'm there.'

Jon could feel the tension churning higher in his gut. He gritted his teeth together to stifle the scream that wanted to rise in him.  
Arya gave him a sharp look. 'Calm down. We'll find him.'  
Jon shook his head, 'He could be anywhere. This bloody castle is too damned big and Theon knows every hiding place in it.'  
Arya's look turned fierce. 'So do I,' she said, and they started jogging again.

They ducked in and out of corridors, behind portraits and into empty, abandoned looking rooms. Every time they came up empty handed, Jon felt it like a kick in the chest. He couldn't lose Theon. He just couldn't.

Arya slipped out of the Hospital Wing, drawing the door closed behind her with a soft click. Jon didn't even need to hear that Theon wasn't inside. It was written all over her face.  
He slumped against the wall, running his hands through his hair and growling in frustration. Where could Theon be? Where would he have gone in the state he was in? He hadn't been in his right might. It was like something had been driving him … pushing him to do and say things that were against his nature …

And then suddenly he knew. He knew with absolute certainty where Theon had run to. He felt sick fear bubble up in him as he rasped, 'Where do the Slytherins sleep?'  
Arya caught on immediately and her eyes widened and then they were both running. She took them deeper and deeper into the castle before she skidded to a halt before a section of blank wall in the cellars. She confidently stepped up to a section that looked the same as every other one and said, 'Pure blood.'

A door appeared and Jon stepped through without a thought for how Arya been able to get them in. She put a cautioning hand on him, leaning in close to whisper, 'We need to be really quiet, Jon.'  
Jon nodded and forced himself to slow down. Adrenaline was spiking through him and he could feel his heart beating out of control. He glanced around the opulent common room, barely sparing a thought for it as he confirmed that there was no one present. Then they set off in the direction of what was clearly the bed chambers. There was door, after door and Jon wondered if they could possibly search them all without waking someone. But then something further down the corridor caught his eye. There was a symbol carved into the top of a door frame. It was glowing a faint green in the darkness of the night. It was a triangle and it contained a circle. A vertical line slashed through the middle of it.

He recognised it vaguely. He was sure he'd seen something like this before … studied it? Then he remembered the story of the night king and his reign of terror. And the symbol he had used … it may have been scratched into the door years before, but Jon had a feeling that this was where he needed to go. He hurried down the corridor without looking to see if Arya was following him. He turned the handle and pushed inwards, almost surprised when the door gave and swung open under his hand.  
The sight that met his eyes stopped him dead in his tracks.

The room was lit by the glow of a lamp beside the large four poster bed. Jon's eyes were drawn to the light and he drew in a sharp breath as he saw the man reclining against the headboard, one knee drawn up to his chest, the other foot dangling free over the edge. Ramsay Bolton looked at him, confusion moving swiftly to concentration, before his lips moved quickly and Jon felt like a layer of protection had been pulled away from him. Bolton smiled coldly. His eyes reminded Jon of a snake's. Pale and cold and dead.  
'Jon Snow,' he said, voice barely containing his satisfaction. 'To what do I owe the pleasure.'

Jon felt rage flow through him at the smug look on the bastard's face. 'Where's Theon?' he growled. 'What the fuck have you done to him?'  
Bolton raised an eyebrow, gesturing smoothly to the corner of his room, 'He's right here, of course.' Jon whipped his head around, but he didn't miss the steel that entered the other man's voice as he continued. 'Where he belongs.'  
Jon looked frantically, his eyes darting around the room, from the desk to the couch to the - and then his eyes whipped back to the couch - to the still, shapeless lump bundled up one end.

'No,' he whispered, and hurried over, dropping to his knees and reaching out.  
Theon whimpered and curled in on himself as Jon rolled him over, so that he faced the light. Jon felt relief spiral around the panic that he felt. Theon was alive. He was here. They had to get out. They had to leave, right now.  
'Come on,' he said, urging Theon to his feet. He shoved one hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand, turning it on Bolton.  
'We’re leaving,' he said, barely able to stop himself from pouring his hatred and fury into a stream of curses.

'I don't think so,' Bolton said, and he smiled, all his teeth showing in a parody of happiness. Jon ignored him and focussed on pulling Theon forward. But after a moment, he realised the man in his arms was resisting him. Theon was shaking his head, pulling back against Jon's hold, trying to make his way back to the couch.  
'Theon,' Jon said urgently. 'What are you doing? Come _on_.'  
Theon shook his head again and Jon stopped, forced himself to pause and look into the other man's eyes. He turned his back on Bolton, trusting Arya to have him covered.

Theon barely met his gaze. His eyes were unfocussed and there was a glimmer of madness swirling within them.  
'Theon,' he pleaded, 'Please. It’s me - Jon. You have to leave with me. You can't stay here.'  
Theon's gaze sharpened for a moment and he seemed to _see_ for the first time.  
'Jon,' he whispered, and he moved to raise a hand. But then his face shuttered again and Jon glanced down to his grip had tightened on the book in his hand.  
'You should go,' Theon said dully. 'I'm better here. I'm wanted here.'  
Jon felt his heart clench in his chest and he brought his hands up to cup Theon's cheeks.  
'Please, Theon, this isn't you. The journal. It's doing something to you. Bolton is controlling you.'

'I'm wanted here,' Theon said again, not meeting Jon's eyes.  
' _I_ want you,' Jon burst out, unable to help himself. 'Theon, you have no idea how much. You mean everything to me. Please. You have to fight this!'  
But Theon didn't seem to be listening to him anymore. His gaze was unfocussed again and he pulled back out of Jon's hold, slipping back to the couch and curling in on himself.  
Jon felt anguish run through him and he whirled around, jerking his wand up to Bolton, who was leaning forward on the edge of his bed, his face a picture of sick delight.  
'So touching, Snow,' he mocked. 'But I'm afraid he was mine long before he was yours.' Bolton shrugged, 'And some bonds run too deep to be broken.'

With a roar Jon stabbed his wand forward and shouted, ' _Crucio_ ' but Bolton moved his wand almost lazily, blocking the curse.  
Jon stepped forward, already forming his next curse. He was going to rip Bolton apart with his bare hands if he had to. But then a hand on his arm stopped him. He whirled with a snarl, wand coming up against this new threat.  
Arya held her hands up, 'We have to go, Jon.'  
Jon shook his head in disbelief, already turning away, back towards the source of all this pain.  
But she jerked him back towards her and flung a hand out at the doorway.  
Jon followed her movement and saw half a dozen students standing just outside of Bolton's room. More were joining them every second. Some had their wands out. Others were watching, eyes cold.

He looked back at Bolton, whose face was a mask of triumph, and then his eyes darted across to Theon, huddled again on the couch, oblivious to everything.  
He let out a howl of rage and anguish, knowing he had no choice. He glared at Bolton. 'You are a fucking dead man,' he spat, the promise clear in his voice.  
For just second Ramsay's smile faltered, but then he gestured his way out the door, 'Night Snow. Sleep well. I know I will.' Then Bolton leered and let his gaze slip sideways to Theon on the couch.  
Jon couldn’t hold himself back. He knew they were out numbered. He knew he couldn't afford to be the one to strike first. None of that mattered as he yelled ' _Expulso_ '. Bolton barely brought his wand up in time and he caught part of the blasting spell, cracking back against the stone wall with a sickening thud, as the explosion shattered against the stone. He sagged to one side, blood flowing down over his shirt from a wound on the back of his head. Jon felt a vicious satisfaction and took a step forward.

The next second there were curses flying around the tiny space. Arya cast a _Protego_ around them both and pushed him at the door - right into the thick of the spells being aimed at them. The only thing that saved them was the close quarters. Most of the students couldn't get at them without hitting a member of their own house. They were both shielding now, putting all their power into deflecting the barrage of magic being directed their way. Anyone that stepped within physical range was despatched with a savage kick or punch. Jon took out his anger on the faces in front of him, leaving a bloody trail of destruction. Then they were through the door and the students ringing them had backed off, wands trained warily.

Jon looked back through the open doorway and his eyes caught on Theon's. The other man looked lost and alone. He looked like everything he needed in life was walking away in front of him. Jon tensed to go back in. He couldn't leave Theon in this nest of vipers. He just couldn't.  
But Arya jerked him back. 'We have to go, Jon. Now.'  
He cast one, last despairing look at Theon, and then turned and ran.

\-----

At first light, they were at the stone gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster's office. Davos cleared his throat and then leaned forward to mutter a password that Jon didn't catch. He was wrecked. He knew he should have slept when he got back to the ship, but that last image of Theon's haunted gaze hung in front of his face and all he could think was that he'd left the other man alone.

They hurried up the stone staircase and through a large set of doors to see Lord Tywin, seated at his desk, a steaming cup of tea and a piece of toast beside him. He was writing notes, his quill flicking away. At their entrance he paused and set the quill to one side, looking over the two of them. Jon stepped forward but Davos put out his hand.  
'G'morning Headmaster, sir,' he began, gruffly. 'Ther's a bit o' a problem needin' your attention.'  
Tywin made a hand gesture, indicating he should go on.  
'It's Theon. Greyjoy. Sir. He's bin put uner the influence o' a spell. E's not in 'is right mind.'  
The Headmaster arched an eyebrow, 'And where is Mr Greyjoy?'  
Jon couldn't hold himself back. Davos was making far too light of what was going on.  
'He's in the Slytherin dungeons,' he burst out. 'Being held captive by bloody Ramsay Bolton, who put the spell on him to start with. And who's been torturing him for months - maybe years - under your watch.'

The Headmaster held up a sharp hand and Jon forced himself to stop speaking.  
'That is a serious accusation, Mr Snow. Mr Bolton has been a model student through his career here at Hogwarts, and his father has made a number of generous donations to the school board. You have evidence, I presume, to substantiate this claim?'  
Jon nodded, 'Bring Theon here. You can just take one look at him to see that something isn't right.'  
Lord Tywin frowned, considering him for a long moment, and then he nodded. 'Fine. I will have Mr Greyjoy and Mr Bolton brought to my office. I'll have that layabout son of mine do it.' He stood and moved over to the fireplace, throwing a pinch of powder in it and kneeling to place his head in the green flames. Jon could hear a muted argument and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, impatient at the delay.

Lord Tywin returned to his desk and picked up his quill again, the scratching it made as it moved across the page the only sound in the silence. Jon fought the urge to grab the man by the shoulders and shout at him that he should be taking this more seriously.

Finally, the door cracked open again and Theon walked in. Behind him came Bolton and Professor Lannister. Bolton showed no signs of being slammed against a stone wall just hours before. But Jon ignored that. The only one he had eyes for was Theon. He looked better. He looked wonderful. He was rested and stood straight, a smile on his lips. Jon rushed over to him, throwing his arms around the other man, heedless of who saw it.  
'Are you okay?' he whispered into Theon's ear. Theon's arms came up to Jon's chest and he held him tightly for a brief second, fingers gripping in his shirt like a vice. There was a brief puff of air as Theon's voice breathed against his neck, a desperate plea, 'Help.'

And then the other man was stepping back, disentangling himself from Jon, that bright smile still plastered in place. Jon looked at him, confused, but Theon didn't meet his gaze. He didn't seem to be looking anywhere in particular. Then he looked behind Theon, to where Bolton stood, his face a picture of innocent interest. He didn't look in anyway concerned to have been brought to the Headmaster's office with Theon. In desperation, he looked to the Professor, who was eyeing the both of them with unconcealed suspicion. His blue eye was swivelling wildly in its socket.

The Headmaster stepped forward, 'Mr Greyjoy,' he said, looking across all of them before settling his gaze on Theon. 'Mr Snow here tells me you're unwell?'  
Theon's smile dimmed for a moment and he opened his mouth as if to speak, before snapping it closed and smiling widely as he shook his head. 'No sir, I feel completely normal. Better than I have in a while, in fact.'  
'Indeed. You would not say you are under the influence of any spell? You're not being forced to do anything against your will?'  
Jon held his breath, watching Theon. The other man's jaw muscles clenched ad his fingers curled tightly for an instant before he shook his head again.

'No sir. Definitely not.'  
Jon couldn't take it, 'Bolton is obviously forcing him to say this,' he burst out. 'Threatening him or something.'  
The Headmaster looked across at him, frowning.  
'There's a diary!' Jon said. 'A journal. Make him give you that. Test it. It must be full of dark magic. Bolton gave it to him.'  
Lord Tywin looked back at Theon, then behind him to Bolton, before asking. 'Do you have a diary on your person, Mr Greyjoy?'  
Theon shook his head, and then went one step further, turning out his pockets. Jon's heart sank as he saw they were empty.

Then Bolton stepped forward, putting one arm around Theon's waist. Theon dropped his eyes to the ground immediately, and Bolton's grip tightened on him.  
'I'm so sorry to have wasted your time Headmaster. I think Mr Snow is just put out because his boyfriend has decided to return to someone who better meets his needs. It really is nothing you should have been concerned with.' Theon's fingers twitched again, but he didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the ground.

Jon gritted his teeth, looking wildly around. This couldn't be happening. Bolton couldn't get away with what he was doing.  
'Question him! Take his memories and put them in a pensieve! You can't just take his word for it! He's a lying snake.'

'Enough,' Lord Tywin said, raising his hand. 'There is no proof of what you say. This looks to me to be nothing more than a lovers' spat. I will not take kindly to you troubling me with such trifles again Mr Snow.'  
Jon opened his mouth to object, but Professor Lannister stepped forward, 'Father, I believe something more is at work here. I saw Mr Greyjoy in the corridor yesterday and he showed a marked difference to his current appearance. I would like to speak to Mr Greyjoy and Mr Snow alone -'  
Theon interrupted, 'I'm fine,' he said, smile wider than ever. 'No need to waste everyone's time. Just a misunderstanding. We should go. Wouldn't want to be late to class.' He gave a hearty laugh that sounded false and hollow to Jon's ears.

Lord Tywin looked over them all, face hardening as he took in the appearance of his son, hair still wild from sleep, a dressing gown with images of half naked women on the collar wrapped around him. The sneer on his lip left no doubt how much stock the Headmaster put in his Dark Arts Professor's judgement.  
'I'm surprised you're in any position to remember anything you saw. You reek of that filth you were undoubtedly drinking all last night.'  
Jon's gaze darted between the Professor and the Headmaster in shock. Surely the Headmaster wouldn't rule out the concerns of an expert in the Dark Arts. He saw Tyrion grit his teeth, but the shorter man made no further attempt to push his case.

The Headmaster's lip curled again, seemingly at the lack of challenge to his words, and then he turned to Bolton with a hard smile, 'My apologies for disturbing your morning Mr Bolton. I trust you will give my regards to your father, next you speak?'  
Ramsay smiled in return, a big, gloating smile. Jon wanted to punch it off his face. 'Of course, Headmaster. I believe he was saying he would be forwarding you an invitation to the upcoming Charity Ball.'  
'Excellent.' The Headmaster surveyed the room. 'Good day to you all. I have correspondence to finish.'

Jon sagged at the dismissal and beside him he could hear Davos grinding his teeth. They both looked across at Theon, but he was already turning, heading out the door. Bolton stepped up behind him, laying a possessive hand on Theon's back. He looked back over his shoulder and tipped the tiniest of winks to Jon. Jon felt rage ignite inside him and he stepped forward, fists clenched. Davos' hand was tight on his arm, holding him steady.  
'Tha' won' help yer case, lad,' he murmured. 'Let 'im think 'es won fer now.'

So Jon stood, and watched Theon go. Helpless again to do anything about it.

Jon moved quickly down the stone stairs and was striding off down the Hallway where he heard the Professor's voice. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to get out of the castle. To bury his face in Ghost's fur and scream. Or maybe to get on his broom and just fly until he was so high that all he could think about was whether he would get enough air for his next breath.  
He forced himself to halt and wait, as the shorter man caught up to him.

Tyrion pulled him aside, into a small alcove and gestured that he should bend down. The Professor looked around, his magical eye twisting wildly, before he whispered harshly, 'He's under the _Imperius_. Gods knows what else.'  
Jon's eyes widened and he re-evaluated all of Theon's actions in the meeting.  
Tyrion nodded. 'It's done well. I've rarely seen one so seamless. You wouldn't even be able to tell he was under it, except that he's fighting it. He must be fighting so bloody hard, stuck inside his head.'  
Jon felt a pang as he remembered Theon's whispered plea for help, the twitches of his finger, the half-attempted words.  
'Fucking bastard. Fuck!' he growled, unable to fight the helplessness that rolled over him.

Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus, speaking quickly, 'It's not just that. There's a cursed diary. Bolton gave it to him. He must have taken it back just before the meeting. It's influencing Theon as well. We need to figure out how to break its hold on him.'  
The Professor looked interested, 'I have a number of books that might be useful in identifying it. I'm happy to put my knowledge at your disposal.'  
Jon nodded, 'I'll send Arya and Shireen to see you. They're working on it.'  
Tyrion inclined his head in approval, 'Smart girl, that one. I might go and see if I can chase her down now. The sooner we have more information about this, the better.'  
Jon felt relief sink into him, 'Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much.'  
Tyrion clapped him on the shoulder, 'I always did like to see people get what they deserve.'

\----

It was two days before Jon had a summons back to the Headmaster's office. Two days of worry - of watching Theon from the other side of the Hall. The other side of the classroom. He was constantly surrounded by Slytherin students now, always right by Bolton's side. He barely spoke, met no one's eyes and hunched in on himself like he was waiting for the worst to happen. The healthy, happy image that had met them a few days earlier had faded, like the glamour it undoubtedly had been.

They'd been taking it in turns to watch Theon - Robb, Arya, Gendry and himself - to keep an eye on him in the public spaces. But it was the night time Jon feared most. The night, when Theon disappeared into the Slytherin common rooms and Jon lay awake, staring into the darkness, mind conjuring all kinds of horrors. He'd taken to sleeping with Ghost. Davos had modified the wards around the holding pen he was keeping the huge white wolf in so that they would admit Jon. But Ghost still couldn't leave. The animal was miserable in his captivity. But they drew solace from each other.

He couldn't help but worry about Ghost. He'd tried testing the wards, tried to figure out some way he could sneak the animal through and get him to safety. Send him back North where he belonged. Where he would be safe from the likes of Bolton. But they were a Ministry issued set, keyed to the individual creature they were meant to contain. Davos had a whole cupboard of them - used them frequently during his work. Jon couldn't help feeling bitter at the fact that the other man had done his job so well.

The piece of parchment was dropped in front of him at the breakfast table and he snatched it up, darting a suspicious glance across the Hall at Bolton, sure he must have something to do with it. The mocking smile he received in return only entrenched that feeling. He unrolled the piece of parchment, scanning over the few, brief words. His heart began to thud in his chest.

The summons simply read:  
_Your presence is required at the Hearing Conducted by the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures._  
_Creature: Direwolf_  
_Incident: Unprovoked attack on a wizard_  
_Time of hearing: 2 o'clock in the afternoon, 2nd February_  
_Location: Headmaster's Office, Third Floor, Hogwarts Castle_

Robb looked over, eyes widening in concern as he took in Jon's suddenly pale face. Wordlessly Jon passed him the summons and he read it quickly before handing it around.  
'This is good,' Robb said, clearly forcing a smile. 'At least now we'll know what's going to happen and we'll be able to fight against it.'  
Jon shook his head, 'I already know what's going to happen. That sick fuck will be baying for blood. He'll use Ghost to hurt me because he knows that will hurt Theon even more. Ghost is going to get caught in the middle of all this.' His voice broke slightly on the final words and Robb reached across to clasp his shoulder.  
His lack of response said it all.

Jon suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He pushed away from the table, casting a glance across the Hall, eyes unerringly seeking Theon out. To his surprise, Theon met his gaze. He didn't look away or avoid Jon's eyes. Looking at him, even from this distance, was like coming to stand in front of the warmth of a fire after hours in the snow. Jon felt the other man's presence, like a beacon calling to him. Theon's eyes were clear and met Jon's with a determination he'd never seen in them before. It gave Jon hope - just the tiniest flicker of hope. He lifted his hand slightly, wanting to reach out - wanting to pull Theon to him, wrap his arms around him and bury his face in the other man's neck.

Across the Hall, from his place at the centre of the Slytherin table, Theon raised his hand as well. Just a fraction. Jon felt like shouting for joy. He felt such a longing - a need - for Theon rush through him. It swept away everything else in its path. He didn't even want the other man physically right now. He just wanted to be with him. To hold him. To talk to him. To make him happy. Safe. _I'm totally gone on him,_ Jon realised, a small smile tugging at his lips. He let everything he was feeling show in his face, and across the Hall, Theon's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of a smile beginning on his own lips.

Then he flinched and his eyes jerked down to the table in front of him as Bolton put a hand on the back of Theon's neck and looked across the Hall, gaze darkening when it met Jon's. Jon's mood changed in an instant, coming crashing down around him. He let that show on his face too. Let his hatred and anger wash across him. Let Bolton see that Jon was going to take him apart. Piece by fucking piece.

Bolton was the first to look away.

\------

 

When Theon walked into the hearing, following behind Ramsay, with his eyes cast down, he was limping and everything about him looked defeated - tamed. Jon felt rage boil up inside him, his carefully cultivated calm extinguished in a second. He knew - he just knew - that Bolton had punished Theon for meeting his eyes over breakfast that morning. He looked away. There was nothing he could do about it right now.

Most of the others were already in the room. Davos, as the Magical Creatures Professor and the person currently containing Ghost. Mance, as a representative of Jon's interests and as the Head of Durmstrang, and Lord Tywin, seated behind his large, solid desk, waiting for the representatives from the Ministry to arrive.  
Jon was sitting in one of the chairs spread in a semi-circle around the desk.

He turned his head as the doors opened again and his mood dropped lower as he saw Roose Bolton, Minister for Magic, enter. A tall, slim, dark haired woman in dragonhide leathers and a deep green cloak strode in beside him. She scanned the room and when her gaze fell on Jon her whole face lit up. He looked at her in confusion, quite sure he'd never seen her before in his life.

Lord Tywin stood, clearing his through, 'Minister, welcome. I wasn't aware we were expecting you. Can I offer you a refreshment?'  
The Minister shook his head. 'I won't be staying long, Tywin. I'm just here to make sure the right outcome is delivered.' He shot a look at the woman at his side, who ignored his attention. Jon's mood inched up the tiniest amount in response.  
'Dacey Mormont,' she announced to the room at large. 'Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.'  
A Mormont! Jon's mood inched higher again. That family were as pureblood as they come. An old house. Honourable to a fault … well with the exception of the one that was teaching here at Hogwarts. Apparently he'd been lucky to even get the teaching post after he'd disgraced his family. Regardless, if anyone would listen to his side of the story, it would be a Mormont.

'Are we all present?' she asked, looking around the room. There was a nod from Lord Tywin and Dacey strode over to his side, leaning back against his desk, crossing her arms. His lip curled in annoyance, but she ignored him.  
'Great. This is a rather informal hearing. Normally, these things are very clear cut, however as the parties involved are … more notable, shall we say,' - her eyes flicked again to Jon with this comment - 'I've decided to conduct the hearing myself. And our esteemed Minister has seen fit to accompany me.'

'We'll begin by establishing the facts of the incident. The creature involved is a male, adult Direwolf going by the name of Ghost?' She looked to Jon for confirmation. He nodded.  
'He's your familiar?'  
Jon nodded again.  
She looked around the room, gaze settling on Ramsay Bolton, who she seemed to have some familiarity with, 'And you were the one attacked?'

Bolton nodded and opened his mouth. Jon braced himself, waiting for the tirade, but Bolton just looked briefly at his father, grimaced, then looked at Theon and squared his jaw.  
'We don’t need to continue this hearing,' he said. Jon clenched his jaw. Just like the slimy bastard to try and take away Ghost's chance of getting a fair trial. But then his head whipped up as he took in the words the other man was still saying.  
'I'll be dropping all charges. Yes, the beast did bite me. But it was acting in defence of a perceived threat to Theon.' He curled his hand possessively around Theon's hip. Theon was looking at the ground again, though he seemed to have relaxed slightly at Ramsay's words. Jon's eyes narrowed at the contact, but he was still reeling from what the other man had said.

'I have no interest in having the animal punished further for that reason. My wound has healed completely and I have no remaining scar -'  
'Ramsay,' the Minister interrupted his son. 'What game is this? You were attacked by a dangerous beast. It needs to be destroyed.'  
Ramsay shook his head, a strange light in his eyes. 'Sent away father? That might be wise. But I promised Theon here I wouldn't harbour any ill will for the beast. He has a special place for it in his heart.' The last words were said with a malicious look directly into Jon's eyes.

He felt a lurch in his chest and more things clicked into place. Theon had made a deal with Bolton. He must have. Part of the reason he was standing there next to that psycho was because he'd made a deal to protect Ghost - to protect Jon. Jon felt a swell of emotion rise in his chest as he considered the bravery of the man in front of him - subjecting himself to his former abuser to save someone else Jon loved.

Dacey looked between them all. 'I reviewed the facts of the case in advance of this hearing. Direwolves are rare creatures. And for a whole pack to be bonded to a family in the way that these animals are to the Stark House, is quite the magical feat. I'd be loathe to destroy one if there was another option. Do all here consent to sending the beast away?'

Roose Bolton spoke again, 'That's entirely unacceptable -'  
'Father,' Ramsay interrupted. The Minister's mouth tightened into a thin, hard line and Ramsay bobbed his head in deference before he continued. 'I think it would benefit us all,' he extended a hand to indicate Professor Rayder, seated quietly beside Jon, watching the proceedings with narrowed eyes, 'to treat this matter with mercy and diplomacy, in the name of the relationship-building we're doing as a part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.'  
Bolton's voice had thickened slightly at the words _relationship-building_ and Jon had to force himself not to burst out that he knew exactly which relationships Bolton was trying to build and that he would be lucky if he ended up in Azkaban for what he was doing.

The Minister's eyes narrowed but he nodded once, standing to leave. Ramsay made his way over to his father and the two exchanged heated words in low voices. Jon stepped closer to try and overhear what they were saying, but Dacey waylaid him with a wide smile.  
'Jon! I'm a huge fan. Can I call you Jon?'  
Jon shifted, impatient now to get to Theon, who was standing alone, staring at the floor again, seemingly having no intention to move from where he'd been told to wait.  
'I won't keep you, of course,' Dacey was saying now. 'Great outcome for today. Glad I could facilitate it. You couldn't do me one small favour, could you?'  
Jon forced himself to pull his attention back to the woman in front of him. She was right. She _was_ the reason Ghost would be going back home - he refused to give Bolton any of the credit for that decision. If anyone deserved his thanks, it was Theon. Theon and … the woman standing in front of him and unlacing her dragonhide jerkin.

'Quick signature?' she asked, smiling widely and pulling a quill from thin air. He looked at her, mouth open, not reaching for the quill she held out to him.  
Gods he'd forgotten how much he hated this. Being inside Hogwarts for the last few months had taken the edge off. After the first few weeks, students had stopped asking for autographs or trying to steal locks of his hair.  
He looked past her, to Theon, but the other man was already leaving, following behind Ramsay like a kicked dog as he was lead from the room by his father's firm hand.

He plucked the quill from Dacey's hand, scrawled a messy signature across the top of her breast, trying his hardest not to let any of his skin touch hers, and then called a quick thanks before dashing from the room.  
Theon was already gone, and he sagged in disappointment, though he didn’t know what he would have done if he caught up to the trio anyway. 

Arya ran into him as he was making his way back down through the castle  
'Good,' she said, 'I was hoping I'd find you here. Come on. Library. Now.'  
Jon looked at her, still dazed from the news that Ghost was going to be set free - allowed to return home, unharmed.  
'Jon! The journal. We've figured it out. Come on.'  
That snapped him out of it and he hurried after Arya, who refused to tell him anything.

Shireen was seated at a table in the back of the stacks, books open around her and piled high beside her. She barely looked up as they arrived, running her fingers down a page, while she scribbled notes with her other hand.  
'The book Professor Lannister gave me was the one that provided the key,' she said, without preamble. ' _Captis Animarum_ \- Capture of Souls. It's a dark spell. Banned of course. It works through proximity. The person has to open themselves up to the curse - literally let it see their soul. Doing it through a journal is actually quite ingenious. It's a method almost guaranteed to make people reveal -'  
Shireen stopped abruptly as Arya elbowed her in the ribs. She blushed slightly and continued on. 'Well anyway, the purpose of it is to make a mirror of a person's soul - their thoughts and emotions. And then it starts to … twist them. It takes the good ones and locks them away. That's what makes it so irresistible, and makes people so desperate to keep the cursed object around. It literally contains everything good about them.'  
'What does it do with the bad thoughts?' Jon asked, heart sinking as he began to feel he already knew.  
'It makes them worse,' Shireen said simply. 'Amplifies them until that's all the person can think of - all the can believe. It becomes their reality. And the curse feeds off that. It gets stronger. Eventually …' she paused, looking troubled.  
'What?' Jon asked. 'I need to know everything.'  
Shireen frowned, 'Everything I've read says that eventually … people - most people - they … died. They either gave up on their life, were driven mad … or actually took their life to escape it.'

Jon felt sick. He reached blindly for a chair and slumped into it.  
'How do we stop it?' he asked, voice quiet.  
Shireen hesitated and she and Arya exchanged a loaded look. 'We can't.' Jon felt his heart stop beating and a pain ripped through his chest. But Shireen wasn't finished.  
'Theon's the only one who can. It's bonded to him. He has to reject it. He has to reject every bad thing it's making him do or feel or remember … and then he has to reclaim the good. He has to feel that he deserves to feel happy - to be strong and brave and loved and everything else it might have taken away from him.' She shrugged. 'If he can get the part of his soul that it's captured back out of it … it becomes an ordinary book again. It can be destroyed like any other.'

Jon took a deep, shaky breath. There was hope. There was a way forward. He tried to ignore that sneaky, insidious voice inside of him that whispered that Theon wasn't strong enough for this. Theon had been through so much pain and so much hurt and it had left him on his knees … what if he didn't have the strength to reject the darkness?

 

\----

That night he got back to the ship late, after making all of the arrangements to get Ghost, Grey Wind and Nymeria out of Hogwarts and back to Winterfell where they belonged. He'd been trying to keep himself busy. Trying to push out the fear and doubt that his conversation with Arya and Shireen in the library had created.

As he entered his room, he saw the letter lying on his bed, propped up against the newspaper clipping of Theon hugging him that he still had from the first challenge.

He felt his heart beat faster as he picked it up. It wasn't sealed, and he unfolded the single sheet. He felt a jolt of tension as he recognised Theon's writing.  
_Jon_  
_Come to the top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. I'll only have an hour. I need to see you. Come alone._  
_Theon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the cliffhangers! Oh the angst!
> 
> Seriously though, I'm going to smother you lot to death with fluff when this is over haha
> 
> Secondly seriously I've been having a shit time at work. Totally overloaded and stressed off my head. If you're reading, I'd love a shout out, even just a hi. 
> 
> It absolutely makes my day and I could do with a positivity boost in my life right now :p
> 
> Much love. Catch me on Tumblr (squirrel-and-me) if you want to exchange Drarry, Jondry or Greysnow love (or just general Kit Harrington appreciation).


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that took a while because I went back and re-read the whole story so I could get this ch right ... that said it was fun to revisit some of the early stuff. I've been writing this for almost 7 months now ... scary thought.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy.

It was cold on top of the Astronomy tower. Ramsay had told him to put a jumper on. He'd pulled on a thick, black woollen one with little silver squids swimming around the bottom of it. For a moment he'd felt a glimmer of … _something_ … as he ran his fingers over them. But then it was gone. Almost as though pulled away from him. He didn't feel any curiosity about that. He didn't feel anything. Except numb.

He stood quietly, staring at the ground, waiting for Ramsay to tell him what to do next. It was better that way. When he thought for himself, he made the wrong choices. The wrong choices would be painful. He could still feel pain. Ramsay was on edge, pacing. He had that look on his face, that look that said he was in the middle of a hunt. It was sharp - eager … feral.

Theon's fingers closed more tightly around the slim volume in his hands. He never set it down now. It felt like it was an extension of his body - a part of him. Setting it down would be the same as setting his arm down, or his leg. He didn't stop to consider that thought. It was hard to think. Hard to focus, beyond the numbing fog he was surrounded by. Ramsay told him what to do. What to say. Where to be. He didn't need to think.

 

There was a step on the stairs. A whispered, 'Theon?'  
Ramsay's head whipped up and he took two swift steps until he was standing behind Theon. He felt a hard arm around his chest and a sharp pain in his throat as something dug into his skin. He raised his head, blinking slowly, trying to see what was required of him.

Then Jon stepped into view. Theon's eyes widened and he felt a bolt of adrenaline spike through him. It was sucked away as fast as it appeared, but he pushed back against the sensation - resisting the drag of the numbness. Jon couldn't be here. It wasn't safe for him here - alone, in the middle of the night, on top of the Astronomy tower. He opened his mouth to speak - to tell Jon to go. To run. But Ramsay spoke first.

'Snow.' His voice was full of a dark glee, and Theon knew the hunt was over, and Ramsay had captured the prey he was after. He felt despair flood through him. 'I'll have your wand.' The sharp pressure at Theon's throat increased. He realised it was Ramsay's own wand, stabbing into him, but the thought almost didn't register. All he could think of is the danger Jon was in.

A sudden understanding had flooded over Jon's face. His eyes, when they met Theon's, were fierce, but his face was resigned. He reached into the pocket of the dark, hooded jumper he had on and brought his own wand out. Then he hesitated a moment, eyes flicking to Ramsay, looking beyond Theon.  
The pressure on his throat increased again and Ramsay said,  
'Tsk, tsk, Snow. I know so many spells that could do a lot of damage to lovely Theon here. And I promise you I can get at least one of them off before anything you cast hits me. Wand. Now.'

The dark markings across Jon's face spiked in agitation, but then his eyes met Theon's again and he bent, rolling his wand across the ground. It hit Ramsay's foot and he kicked it to one side. Then his grip on Theon loosened and he stepped back a pace.  
Theon turned to him immediately, dropping to his knees.  
'Please,' he rasped, throat raw. 'Please don't do this. Let him go. I'll do anything you say. Please.'  
Ramsay smiled down at him and reached out, running a hand over Theon's hair, soothing him. Petting him as one would pet a favoured hound. He didn't feel humiliation at the motion - at his position. He was far past such things. All that mattered now was getting Jon out. The numbing fog swirled more strongly around him, trying to drag him down into its depths again, but he continued to resisted it. He felt sharper - clearer - than he had in days.

'What happens to Snow depends on you, pet, and whether you can do what you're told,' Ramsay said, looking down at him.  
Theon nodded, 'I can. I will. Just tell me. Let him go. Please.'  
'Theon,' Jon said, and his voice was full of pain. 'Don't do this. Please. You can fight this. Fight him. He's got you under a spell. It's the diary. It's cursed.'  
Theon twisted to look at Jon. The other man had raised a hand - he looked like he wanted to grab Theon and run from the room with him. He tried to focus on Jon's words but it was as though they were coming from a vast distance - as though something was trying to actively push them from his mind.  
'It's changing the way you think Theon,' Jon was saying urgently. 'It's in your mind - taking away every good thing. You need to fight it. To reject it. You can't believe what it's making you think -'

Ramsay stepped forward, cutting Jon off. He raised his wand and said, ' _Incarcerous_. Ropes flew out of the end of his wand, wrapping around Jon's ankles, then pulling his hands behind him, and binding them tightly. Theon cried out in protest, but Ramsay flicked his wand again and Jon fell to his knees. He seemed to ignore his bindings, eyes not leaving Theon's.  
'Please. Fight it Theon. I know you can. You're strong, and brave. You mean everything to me. I can't lose you, Theon.' Jon's voice broke on the last few words and there was so much anguish in his expression that Theon felt his own heart contract. He wanted to reach out - wanted to do as Jon had said - to fight.

But … he couldn't. When he fought back … things got worse. Things always got so much worse. Jon didn't know. Didn't understand. He wasn't strong. _Reek, Reek, it rhymes with weak._ He had broken. He had broken a long time ago, and he couldn't be fixed.  
That thought resonated in him, swelling to fill his mind until it felt right.

'We can all walk away from this,' Ramsay said, and his fingers tightened in Theon's hair, so he was pulling Theon's head around, forcing him to look up from his position on his knees. 'You just need to make a choice, pet.' Ramsay's finger twisted cruelly again, twisting his head so that Theon was looking at Jon now. Jon's big, dark eyes, that seemed to be pleading with Theon not to give in.  
'You need to tell him who you want.'

Theon understood. He knew what Ramsay wanted to hear.  
'I want you,' he said to Ramsay, while looking into Jon's eyes still, begging him to understand. 'It will always be you,' he hesitated, then forced himself to continue, not wanting Jon to hear the word from his mouth, '… Master.' Ramsay's wand caressed the side of his face and Theon knew he needed to say more. He turned to look up at Ramsay, ignoring the pull in his hair as Ramsay didn't loosen his grip. 'I choose you. I don't want him. I never did. I just liked that he was famous. I'm sorry. I'll never look at him again. Never speak to him again. Just let him go.'

With the last words, Theon knew he'd made a mistake, Ramsay's face darkened again. The wand stroked back down Theon's face.  
'I don't believe you, pet. You'll have to prove it.'  
Theon felt a dark foreboding run through him. Ramsay reached into his robes and pulled Theon's wand out, holding it in front of his face. Theon moved the diary to his bad hand and reached up, slowly, to grasp his wand, knowing that if he didn't, he'd regret it. The smooth, familiar wood felt soothing under his fingertips.

Ramsay's next words destroyed that momentary comfort. 'Crucio him.'  
Theon's eyes widened and he shook his head in involuntary rejection of the words.  
Ramsay's eyes narrowed.  
'I can't,' Theon gasped. 'Please. Use it on me instead. Leave him.'  
Behind him, Jon cried out in protest to his words. Theon heard movement, as though he was struggling against his bonds.

Then Ramsay smiled and lifted his own wand. 'Theon … _Imperio_.'  
Theon felt a moment of despair before the familiar spell settled over him. It pushed his thoughts - his will - aside … pushed them into a tiny corner of the back of his mind. He could see and hear what was going on, but he felt disconnected, floating … trapped.  
Then came the voice in his mind. The smooth, compelling voice, that lulled him, that promised it knew what it was doing. It knew what was best.

' _Theon. Crucio him._ '  
He turned slowly, still on his knees, to face Jon. The other man's face was pleading - he was speaking words - trying desperately to tell Theon … something.  
But all he could hear was the silky voice in his mind. ' _Theon, raise your wand._ '  
His hand came up automatically. But … something felt wrong. Jon looked into his eyes again - his expression tormented, not for himself … but for Theon. This wasn't right. He was going to hurt Jon. He couldn't hurt Jon.

' _Theon. Crucio him._ '  
He couldn't hurt Jon.

' _Theon. Crucio him._ '  
This wasn't right

' _Theon! Crucio him._ '  
The voice was more demanding now. He had always done what the voice said. The voice always won.  
Jon's words flashed back through his mind. _You're strong, and brave. You mean everything to me._  
He couldn't hurt Jon.

' _THEON. CRUCIO HIM._ '  
Theon pushed back. He _would not_ hurt Jon.  
He pushed back with everything he had, fighting against the voice, against the compulsion. He rejected it. He was strong. Jon said he was strong. He could do this one thing - fight this one thing. He pushed with everything he had - screaming his rejection out inside his own mind … and then he felt it break, and suddenly Ramsay's hold on his mind was gone.

Theon felt a moment of shock - that he had done it. He had actually done it. Then he felt a surge of triumph and joy. He had beaten Bolton. For once in his fucking life he had beaten Ramsay Bolton. Just as quickly as his happiness had risen, he felt it being sucked away from him. His eyes jerked wide and he followed the sensation inwards. This was wrong. On the crest of the incredible feeling of _finally_ having been strong enough … it was wrong that that be taken from him.

Jon's words came back to him again, _It's the diary. It's cursed - It's in your mind - taking away every good thing. You need to fight it. To reject it._ He couldn't - he couldn't let Bolton win now. He turned his thoughts further inward, closing his eyes and focussing his magic inside himself, gripping his wand in a white-knuckled hand - reacting more than thinking. He followed the last fleeting feeling of joy that was being taken from him - followed the tail end of it and felt his magic pushing him after it, as though willing him to catch it. Time seemed to slow and then stop, an instant freezing into a lifetime.

He _reached_ with his mind …. somehow _pulling_ on the memory, drawing it back into him. He felt the strength of it - the pride of it - enter him again and it gave him just enough willpower to dive deeper - reach further. He caught the tail end of another memory, glowing brightly in the darkness of his mind. He reached out to grasp it. It resisted, as though something was trying to wrench it away from him, but he gritted his teeth and forced it up into the light. It came to life in his mind, bright and pure.

 _It was New Years Eve. He was sitting in a circle with Jon and Robb and Gendry and all the rest. They'd tasted veritaserum and Robb had just asked Jon how long he'd been into Theon. He'd felt a jolt of anxiety run through him but then Jon's answer had swept all that away.  
'I noticed him when we first came arrived at Hogwarts and did that display for the school. He was watching me in this way that I could just _ feel _and then in class I could always tell when he was looking at me. And then he was hurt and I just wanted to rip apart the person who'd done it. Does that count as a fantasy? I don't think so. I think the first time I fantasised about him was probably that time on the boat, right after they announced the champions. We had that party and Theon climbed up into the rigging. He looked like a water sprite come to life, so graceful and sleek and daring. I just wanted him, like I'd never wanted anyone before in my life. I started thinking about him when I was alone, when I was just on the edge of sleep. But I never did anything about it. Never until that time we flew together, and he was pressed up against me and his hands were on me and I could feel him behind me. And after that I was in the shower and I couldn't help myself anymore. He was all I could think about as I -'_

Jon had been under veritaserum. He had been unable to tell a lie. And he had _wanted_ Theon. Had wanted him and noticed him from the very first day. That memory stood shining and bright in his mind, the sense of confidence and self-worth he'd felt in that moment filling him again.

He was wanted.

He held the memory tight to himself and then reached again, diving deeper, pulling for another sliver of shining memory. Again there was a struggle as something tried to keep him from it. He forced himself past it. These thoughts were _his_. No one had the right to take these moments from him.

_He was on the frozen Lake, skating with Jon. Jon stepped onto the ice first, gliding forward, still holding one of Theon's hands in his own. Theon hesitated before stepping gingerly on. He immediately felt his feet shoot out from under him and his arms went wide in flailing panic. Instead of hitting the ground like he'd expected, he found himself caught in Jon's arms just inches above the hard surface. His legs had slid through Jon's and the other man was leaning down with a look of amusement on his face as he held Theon._  
_'Not as at home on frozen water I see?' he teased gently as he slid backwards, pulling Theon upright as he moved. Theon wobbled, one hand grasping tightly at Jon's forearm to keep his balance._  
_'We didn't all grow up in an icy wasteland, Snow,' he snarked back, trying to concentrate on not ending up on his arse. Jon skated in closer to him so that their bodies were flush against each other and then he bent his head to whisper in Theon's ear._  
_'Relax. Trust me. I won't let you fall.'_  
_Theon closed his eyes momentarily against the heat of Jon's body, the whisper of breath against his ear as the other man spoke. He opened them again to see Jon had pulled back and was looking him in the eyes, his own grey ones earnest and sincere. He felt himself relaxing as he realised he did trust Jon. He knew Jon wouldn't hurt him - let him be hurt._

He pulled that trust close to himself. He reminded himself that he wasn't broken. He could learn to open up again. Could learn to trust. Could be whole.

He pulled another memory to himself. It was somehow easier this time.

 _He was in Jon's room on the ship. They'd been studying together. He glanced across at Jon. His face was flushed and his eyes were hot and needy. Slowly, not taking his eyes off Theon, Jon reached for the shelf at the head of his bed, his shirt riding up to reveal rock hard abs. Theon wanted to look but his gaze was captured by Jon's as the other man scooped his wand up and pointed it at the door. He hesitated for half a second, a hint of uncertainty in his face, but then he took a deep breath and whispered the word,_ Colloportus. 

_Theon was moving before he even heard the door lock. In a second he was kneeling on the bed in front of Jon and the other man's hands came up to tangle in his hair as they crushed their mouths together. It was hot and wet and hungry and it set Theon on fire. Every part of his body was aware of the feel of Jon against him - the sparks where their bodies touched. Theon pushed against Jon, hands moving to his hips to pull him closer as they knelt in front of each other. Theon could feel how hard Jon was - could feel the hot length of him rubbing against Theon's own cock with delicious friction. He gasped at the sensation and Jon moaned as Theon's hands slipped under the edge of his shirt, touching bare skin. Jon's hands tightened in Theon's hair, pulling him closer, making the kiss deeper, harder, their tongues moving together as each tasted the other in urgent, gasping movements. They kissed and licked and bit against each other, hands and mouths moving over each other as if they couldn’t get enough, as if they both wanted everything all at once. Both were panting and moaning and gasping sounds that were half formed words - neither wanting to break from the kiss for more than a moment. Theon was lost in Jon - the feel of him, the taste of him, the smell of him._

He pulled himself out of the memory of being desired so intensely it hurt. And then he dove straight into the next one, reaching smoothly for it.

_He was sitting at Hogsmeade with Jon on a fence post. 'Ha!' Theon shouted, 'You're mine now, Snow … let's see.' He was quiet a moment as he sorted through the rest of his beans, picking out an off-green colour and handing it over with a gleeful expression._  
_Jon took it, eyeing it dubiously, murmuring, 'Overcooked cabbage?' Theon snorted another laugh and nodded and Jon grimaced and bit into it._  
_A second later he was gagging and spitting into the snow, jumping off the rail and to his feet._  
_'What!' Theon asked in alarm, Jon spat again and then groaned, laughing as he looked up to meet Theon's concerned expression. 'Troll bogeys. That's low Theon.'_  
_Theon looked at him for half a second and then burst into laughter, a deep, shaking belly laugh the likes of which he hadn't had in so long that he couldn't think back. Then Jon was laughing too, leaning against the post and holding his side. The sound set Theon off again and he squeezed tears out of the corner of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment - in nothing but the look on Jon's face as he'd eaten troll bogeys._

He clasped that glow of warmth to himself. The memory of having fun - of being fun. He was that person. He'd _been_ that person. And he could be again.

He pulled another memory to himself, reaching out with confidence now.

 _He was in the arena. He was facing down the Black Dread. There was heat and light all around him. Water boiled and steamed and hissed as the spell pulled more and more from the lake to swirl around him, to protect him in a thick, ice-cold barrier. Still the fire came, billowing around him, beating against his liquid shield, trying to force its way in. Theon gasped in quick breaths, fingers gripping Robb's wand painfully tightly and looked at the spectacle, eyes wide._  
_Then, abruptly, the flame cut off. The hissing of steam ceased as well as the water surged back into place in full depth around him. He let out a shaky breath and forced his legs not to collapse under him. He forced himself to move again._  
_He could faintly hear Baratheon's voice, distorted through the liquid prism he moved within, 'By the Gods that boy has balls. Did you_ see _that? He just stood there and took it. Dragon fire. Face on. I've never seen the like.' Theon grinned tightly, teeth bared, and moved more quickly, darting between rocks, making his way towards the egg. The dragon blew flame at him again. And again. Each time the spell held. His watery protection took all the abuse levelled at it and replenished as fast as the furnace of heat destroyed it. He looked up at it as he climbed now, trying to gauge just how close he was, how far its chain stretched. He readied the next spell in his mind. When he'd practiced with Jon, most of the time, he'd been able to hold both spells at once. Most of the time wasn't going to be enough now._  
_This had to work._  
_Then the dragon moved. It seemed to have decided that its eggs were no longer safe and that it had to take the fight to the interloper instead of allowing him closer to the nest. There was no more time to think. The huge scaled beast launched itself down the pile of rocks at him. Theon jerked his wand up so that it was pointing directly at the beast and shouted, '_ Impetus Aqua _'. There was no delay. A massive jet of water sprung from his wand, half as thick as the great scaled head coming for him, teeth bared. It punched into the dragon's thick skull, knocked its aim off, pushed it to one side. It dug its claws into the rock, whipping its long neck back to face him and roaring loudly, the noise deafening, even though his bubble of water._  
_He threw the spell again. And again, each massive jet of water smashing into the beast's head, its side, its legs. Pushing it and buffeting it. He was panting from the effort, climbing madly, almost blindly as he watched it, putting every ounce of his effort, his fight, into keeping it busy, keeping it distracted. The cocoon of water wouldn't protect him from jagged teeth, wouldn't protect him from a crushing blow. He had to keep it off him. Keep it away._

He felt a wave of strength and courage flow into him. He'd faced down a dragon. He'd outsmarted and out magic-ed a _dragon_.

He grinned and it was a sharp grin as he hunted for the next brightness. He could feel himself drawing closer to a nexus - a hub. The memories were getting closer together. They suddenly seemed to be resisting him more again. But he'd beaten a dragon. A diary couldn't stop him from reclaiming what was his.

 _He was in the Forest, practicing spell work with Jon. His grip tightened slightly on Jon's hand and he demonstrated the movement he'd been making._  
_'It's more like_ this _,' he murmured. Jon nodded, biting down on his lip for a moment before he repeated the motion, with Theon's hand still resting lightly on his._  
_'That's it,' Theon said, as he took his own hand away. He couldn't bring himself to move back though. Jon took a deep breath and Theon thought he must be imagining the slight shakiness in the sound._  
'Evanesco', _Jon said as he waved his wand, and his voice was a low growl that sent heat through Theon. The rock in front of him vanished and so did the patch of grass under it and the collection of sticks sitting off to one side of it._  
_Jon turned straight to Theon, triumph lighting up his face as he celebrated his success._

Theon took a moment to savour the remembered triumph and achievement of helping Jon master the spell. Working with Jon, having his own abilities develop alongside the other man's - _I'm smart_ , he realised abruptly. I'm not a half-rate Greyjoy nothing. _I'm smart. I could be great_.

He seized the next memory, wrenching it away from the sucking darkness with ease.

 _He was flying through the air. Snow smirked, and then he pulled his broom down into a steep dive, sending them plummeting back down to the ground. Theon leaned in hard against the man in front of him, stretching his body out almost on top of him and squinted against the wind rushing past his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good. He_ whooped _for joy as they sped through the air. As they reached the level of the stands again, Snow glanced back over his shoulder at Theon, surprise clear in his eyes at the excitement he saw on Theon’s face. Then he cracked the first real, full smile Theon had seen him give. Theon grinned back madly, unable to help himself._  
_Snow’s smile deepened and he shouted, ‘Hold on,’ again._  
_He wrapped his arms tighter around the man in front of him and Snow pulled his broom into a barrel roll that sent them spinning through the air, the ground and the sky flashing madly. Theon pushed everything else out of his head and laughed out loud at the fun of it. Then Snow straightened up and they pulled back up to the level of the game, flashing in and out of all the other players. Theon noted absently that Snow was just about the best flyer he’d ever seen in his life, but he couldn’t think much more beyond the joy of the flight._  
He reached for another memory.

_He was standing in the rigging of the Durmstrang ship. He looked down at everyone looking back up at him and smiled at the idea that occurred to him. It was a reckless smile. It was a smile the old Theon would have smiled. Then he pulled himself up to the edge of the crow's nest, balancing easily on the wooden railing. He took a deep breath, gripped the glowing light more tightly in his bad hand and jumped out into space. He didn't hear the screams below him as the wind whipped at his hair. Just for fun he tucked himself into a quick roll as the netting stretched out below him. He hit it and bounced down it, uncurling from his roll and reaching out with his good hand to stop his descent in the ropes. The movement wrenched his shoulder - he wasn't as light now as he'd been at nine years old, but it was worth it for the looks on everyone's faces as he slid off the rigging and back onto the deck._

He remembered being daring. Strong. Brave

He reached.

_He was in Transfiguration, the first class of the year. He looked up into the blue eyes and wolf-marked face of Robb Stark. He felt his mouth drop open and he glanced around. The desks around him that were usually left empty by his classmates were full. He felt his heart thud in his chest as he realised Snow was slumped in the seat front of him, the fingers on one hand tapping as he looked to the front of the room. To his other side was the bull-faced man - Gendry. And beside him, the flame-haired woman with the fox markings. She was scribbling aimlessly on a sheet of parchment, looking out the window._  
_‘A quill?’ the man next to him - Robb - asked again, a hint of a smile on his face now._  
_‘Ah - yeah - sure,’ Theon said, jerking his thoughts back to the present and rummaging in the bag at his feet. He pulled out a battered feather and handed it to Robb, who winked at him, then straightened up as Professor Tyrell entered the room._

He had friends. He was worthy of friends.

He reached.

_He was younger - he'd just made the Quidditch team. His father had come to watch the game and he'd flown better than he ever had in his life. He felt the thrill of the game rush through him, the strength and fitness of his body. He knew what to do without thinking._

He could trust himself.

He reached.

_He was in Care of Magical Creatures._  
_'Top marks to Mr. Greyjoy 'ere. 'es the only one o' all o' yeh to identify every element of 'abitat required to sustain the Ashwinder.'_

He reached.

_He was on break from Hogwarts. Asha had appeared out of nowhere and told him he'd be spending the summer with her. 'That miserable old sod can rot in his own unhappiness. He can do without your free labour this year.'_  
_'So you're going to use me for free labour?' he teased._  
_She cuffed him lightly. 'Cheeky sod. Do you want to spend the next few weeks lazing in the sun on my deck and doing whatever the hell you want?'_  
_He nodded, looking at his big sister with admiration he tried to fight, but couldn't hide._  
_'Then let's get out of here, Boë,' she said, pulling him into a hug._

He reached.

_He was in Maester Aemon's shop, and the wizened old man was passing him wand after wand. He didn't seem to need his sight as he muttered and felt among the shelves. Then the right one came to him. He knew, the moment it touched his fingers. Bright sparks issued from the end as he waved it and he felt - for the first time in his life - his magic respond deliberately to him. He felt the swell of power within himself and he felt like anything was possible._

He held tight to that feeling that his future could be whatever he wanted it to be.

He reached.

_He was on Pyke. He was gliding through the water, cutting effortlessly through the cold, salt-sharp waves. He swam and dived and played, his body young and tanned and whole. He felt like nothing could touch him._

He reached.

_He was running along the beach. His brothers - Rodrick and Maron - were running with him. They were playing a hectic game of tag across the hot sand, laughter shrieking through the air. He felt the joy and carelessness swell through his chest._

He reached.

_He heard his mother's sweet voice and felt her soft hands. She was singing to him as she stroked his hair back off his face and bent to lay a kiss on his forehead._

He was loved.

He remembered the look in Jon's eyes these past weeks - the depth of feeling, the intensity, the sense that he was the most important one in the room.

He was loved.

He knew it with a certainty that shook him to his core. 

And suddenly it was the easiest thing in the world to force the negativity and viciousness of the diary from his mind. He wrapped everything good and whole and strong and happy about himself around him like a shield and he pushed back. He pushed against everything that didn't belong. He pushed away the fog and the numbness and the guilt and the crippling self-doubt. He forced it back into the book and felt it like a door shutting when the thing lost its grip on his mind.

He opened his eyes, dropped the diary to the floor and said, _'Incendio'_. It burst into flames, thick, oily black smoke billowing from it. Theon looked up at a shocked sound from off to one side.

It had felt like a lifetime had passed, but clearly it had been no more than a few seconds. Bolton had reacted with shocked disbelief, mouth open and hand outstretched as he looked at the diary burning on the floor in front of them. It took the other man no more than a moment to respond. He raised his wand, his face contorting into a vicious snarl as he said, ' _Cruc-_ '  
Theon whipped his wand up, pointing it at the other man, the non verbal _Protego_ bursting forth with more strength than any spell he'd cast before.

The force of it hit Bolton and forced him backwards. He stumbled, arms flying wide as he tried to catch his balance. He stepped and then stepped again, and then he let out a cry as he tripped backwards, falling from the parapet of the tower.

Theon ran forward, catching himself on the edge as he peered over. Bolton's cry had cut off abruptly, and Theon realised it was because he'd cast himself a cushioning charm. He was already picking himself off the cobblestones below, limping away into the darkness. The look he cast up to the tower where Theon still stood promised bitter vengeance.

Theon didn't shrink from it. He glared back down, raising his chin - daring the other man to come after him again.

He watched until Bolton had disappeared into the shadows then he turned back to Jon, hurrying over to where he was still bound and on his knees. He dropped down in front of him and threw his arms around the other man, crushing Jon to him. He felt everything crash into him in that moment - days of sleeplessness, torment, anxiety, guilt. The emotional rollercoaster that he'd just experienced. Suddenly it all hit him and he wanted nothing more than to be held by Jon.

His fingers trembled as he cast a severing charm on Jon's bonds and then the other man's arms were around him, hard and strong and Jon was burying his face in Theon's neck.  
'Gods, Theon,' he murmured, his voice catching. 'That was the most brilliant and most scary thing I've ever seen in my life. You were amazing.'  
Jon pulled back a fraction to press a kiss to Theon's mouth, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. 'I thought I'd lost you,' he said, eyes earnest and full of pain. 'I was so scared I'd lost you to that thing.'  
'I'm Ironborn,' Theon said, summoning a wink and a shaky smile. 'Takes more than that to get rid of us,' he joked softly.  
Jon's answering smile was just as wobbly and Theon kissed him lightly in turn before drawing him back into a hug.

Right now he just needed Jon's body against his. Strong and safe and certain. He remembered what he'd realised in the whirlwind of thoughts and memories. He was loved … but he knew - he knew now, without a doubt that he loved Jon in turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, at last we have Theon back! Theon stronger and better by being tempered by pain and hardship. I think now he's learned to love and value himself and to have confidence in himself again.
> 
> We'll start seeing some of playful, snarky Theon now. Be interesting how it will change the dynamic with Jon.
> 
> As always, would absolutely love your comments. I feel like we've been sort of working up to that ch/ character growth from the very beginning ...
> 
> I really hope you liked it.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes fluff - smut - fluff - fluff - smut - fluff.  
> Just FYI ;)

Before he was ready to let go, Jon was drawing back, pushing himself to his feet and reaching a hand down for Theon. He made a sound of protest but Jon pulled him up and then wrapped an arm securely around his waist, pulling him in close.  
'Come on. We need to go back to the ship. We need to get out of here. You need to sleep and eat and … I just … want you somewhere safe.'  
Theon swallowed his protest and leaned into Jon's side as the other man steered them through the darkened castle. He spared half a thought for Bolton and where he'd run off to, but to his surprise, he realised he didn't care. He wasn't afraid anymore.

His exhaustion was weighing down on him, but that thought made it easier to bear. As did Jon's warm, strong presence at his side. Before he realised it, Jon was bundling him into the boat and rowing him out to the ship. He forced his tired arms to pull him up the rope ladder, stumbling forward as he reached the deck. Then Jon was at his side again, steering him down into the hold, voice murmuring soothingly in his ear.  
'Just have to get some food into you, Theon. Sleep soon, but you need to eat and get clean. Just a few bites okay? There you go. Few more. That's it.'

He could barely taste the food. His whole body felt heavy. A week of barely any sleep, the overwhelmingly crushing influence of the diary, the tension of being in fear and on edge for days, the strain of fighting the imperius - and then the emotional rollercoaster of chasing his memories - re-living his very life it had seemed - had left him empty. Hollow. He had nothing left to give.

He started when he felt his jumper being pulled up over his head. He forced his eyes to focus and saw that Jon was standing naked in front of him in one of the small bathrooms on the ship. The air was filled with steam and the shower was running behind the other man.  
Jon smiled gently at him, 'That's it. Just a quick shower. Trust me, you'll feel better. You- well just trust me. That's it, now hop in.'  
He let the hot water run over his skin, through his hair and over his face. He stood under the heat and closed his eyes, letting Jon run a soapy cloth over his body. Jon moved gently but quickly, washing away days worth of sweat, grime and fear. He let himself be soothed by the soft, smooth strokes of the cloth and Jon's hands on his body.

He cracked open an eye and pushed his mouth into a semblance of a smirk, 'At least you made me dinner first.'  
Jon's eyes darted up to meet his and the other man relaxed into the first smile Theon had seen in what felt like forever.  
Jon leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, and then brought one hand up to cup his cheek, stroking softly across it.  
'I thought I was going to lose you,' he murmured, pain and fear chasing away his smile.  
Theon shook his head, 'Stuck with me now,' he mumbled, eyes closing again.  
Jon kissed him on the forehead and then reached behind him, switching off the shower.

Finally he was being bundled into bed, Jon stretching out beside him, warm and strong and comforting. The last thing he heard before unconsciousness claimed him was the lock of the door and the murmur of privacy spells. He slept.

\----

He woke slowly, becoming aware first that he was more comfortable than he'd ever felt. And warm. He could feel a naked back against his chest and he cracked his eyes open. The sun was shining brightly through the small porthole and he could see sleep-mussed black curls, and broad shoulder with thick dark markings moving minutely across them. He tightened his arm around Jon's chest and bent his head to press a kiss against the man's bare shoulder.

Memories of the night before - of the last few days - came flooding back and he let them wash over him. He realised, with a shock, that he'd almost died. Now that he was free of the journal - free of its sucking despair and numbness - he could feel how badly it had been affecting him. He'd been losing himself. It had taken Jon - the idea of hurting Jon - the idea that Jon couldn't bear to lose him - to give him the strength to take action.

And that strength … he felt stronger - more himself - than he had in years. He stretched and then snuggled back against Jon's sleeping body. He felt more comfortable in his own skin than he could remember being. He laid another kiss on Jon's skin, remembering what else he'd realised last night, in amongst rediscovering himself. _I love him_ , he thought, resting his forehead against the man sleeping in his arms. _I'm so gone on this man._ The thought didn't frighten him the way it would have a few weeks ago. He knew he was safe with Jon. And if he wasn't - if things changed in the future … he could deal with that. He was strong and resilient and resourceful … he could deal with whatever came. But for now - for now he wanted to love the man who had risked his own life to save Theon's.

He kissed Jon again, nuzzling into his neck and the other man began to stir, rolling over slightly and blinking sleepily. He smiled, a soft, happy smile, when he saw Theon was awake. Theon leaned down and kissed him again, on the lips this time.  
'Hi,' Theon whispered as he drew back.  
Jon's hands came up to cup his face. He pulled Theon back in for another kiss, sucking gently at his bottom lip. Theon moaned at the sensation and opened his mouth. Instantly Jon deepened the kiss, and then their tongues were sliding together, hot and sweet. Jon reached down and pushed at Theon's hip, urging him to move. He lifted a leg so that he was straddling the other man, the thin layers of their briefs the only thing separating their rapidly hardening lengths.

The feeling of having Jon underneath him, of being safe, of being rested and whole combined inside him in a dizzying swirl. He kissed Jon harder, feeling the smooth slide of skin as their naked chests rubbed together, pushing down on the hard ridge of the other man's cock as he moved his hips.  
Jon groaned into his mouth then his hands moved up onto Theon's hips, holding him in place, pulling him closer. Jon pushed his hips up, biting at Theon's lip again, harder this time. He felt heat rush through him.

It was like a dam breaking. Suddenly they were both moving, grinding against each other, hands moving, trying to touch every piece of skin. Jon's hands slipped under his briefs, cupping Theon's arse, before pulling the material down. Theon moaned and shifted to get them off, not breaking the kiss. Their tongues were moving together in a delicious hot slide, each one desperate to touch - to taste - as much of the other as possible.

It was like they both suddenly needed to reassure themselves that this was real - that they were both safe. Were here. That they could have this.  
'Off,' Theon gasped, pulling at Jon's tight black briefs in turn.  
Jon pulled them down and his cock sprang free, Theon reached for it and Jon gasped a curse as he ran his hand up the hard length, squeezing and swirling in the way he knew drove Jon wild. Then Jon reclaimed his mouth and reached for Theon in turn. Theon's groan of pleasure was muffled as Jon bit and licked and kissed into his mouth. They were both moving now, jerky and fast. It was dry and it was clumsy but it was exactly what they needed - all they could manage, lost in each other and in the pleasure they were feeling.

Theon could feel his release building. He didn't want this to end - it was too fast. But the sensations were too much - the memory of Jon and the feel of him and the _relief_ at being able to do this again combined to make every sensation sharp and intense.  
'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' he groaned against Jon's jaw, kissing it as he moved down to mouth at the other man's neck.  
'I know, love,' Jon whispered, voice sounding broken and desperate. It was this that sent Theon over the edge. With a cry he stiffened, cock pulsing in Jon's fist as he continued to move it, stroking Theon through his release. 

Theon collapsed against Jon, boneless and strung out, feeling open and raw. The other man nudged at his cheek and Theon turned his head, kissing Jon - more slowly now, sweetly.  
Jon's fist covered Theon's on his cock and he moved both their hands up and down. He tilted his hips up, his other hand came down to cup Theon's arse, and then he was coming too, squeezing his eyes shut against the intensity of his orgasm.

They lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, Theon half on top of Jon, face buried in the other man's neck. Jon's palm moved up his back in slow, languid strokes and Theon felt the last of his tension leave him. Jon pressed a kiss to his hair and Theon rolled to the side. Jon followed him so that they were lying face to face on the pillows, blankets pushed down to their feet as they tangled their legs together.

Jon reached for his wand for a brief moment as he whispered a cleaning charm, and then he brought his hand back down, linking his fingers through Theon's and smiling at him, rubbing his thumb lightly over Theon's palm. He shivered slightly under the gentle touch and couldn't resist leaning forward slightly to press a kiss to Jon's lips.  
When he drew back, Jon was smiling, grey eyes soft and happy.  
'I want to wake up like that every morning,' he said, sighing in satisfaction.  
Theon grinned back. 'I'm sure that could be arranged.' Then he paused, frowning slightly, 'though me sleeping here would make people talk.' He tried to keep his tone light, but Jon's fingers tightened on his.

'Let them talk. I want everyone to know,' his voice was sure and he was looking at Theon intently. 'I was stupid before. I never should have tried to hide you - hide us. What we have - Gods Theon, I nearly lost you. I don’t want to waste another second trying to sneak around in case something bad happens. I want people to know - ' he took a deep breath, hesitating only a moment, 'to know that I'm in love with you. I love you,' Jon said, looking him straight in the eyes, face shining with the certainty of his words.  
Theon felt his heart beat faster - it had been so long since he'd heard those words - heard them said by someone who knew what love was. And to have Jon tell him that …  
'I love you, too,' he said, and then they were kissing again.

It was slower this time, less urgent. It was as though they'd both realised they had all the time in the world. Jon pushed gently at Theon's shoulder until he was laying on his back, head resting on a pillow. He felt a tingle of anticipation run through him and Jon kissed him slowly, deeply, tongue moving in a sinuous slide against Theon's. One of Jon's hands ran down his body, nails raking slightly over his collarbone and chest. He shivered under the light touch and then Jon's fingertips ran over his nipple, it hardened instantly under his touch and Theon gasped softly into Jon's mouth. Jon circled it with his fingers, before pinching lightly and Theon let out a moan at the tingle of sensation through his chest. 

Jon broke off the kiss and bent his head to lick at Theon's nipple, other hand coming up to tweak and twist at the other side of his chest. He moaned again, putting both hands in Jon's hair, feeling himself begin to respond to the touches.  
'I love you,' Jon murmured into his skin between sucking kisses. Theon groaned and pulled him closer. Jon bit lightly at his skin.  
'I love everything about you,' he continued, peppering his words with kisses. 'I love how brave you are.' His fingers drifted lower, over Theon's stomach, sending heat flowing through him. 'I love how you just never give up.' Jon moved back up to kiss Theon again, sucking on his lip. 'I love how you're so good at figuring things out,' he murmured as he nuzzled at Theon's neck. Theon bent his head to the side, caught up in the words, in the adoration in Jon's voice, wanting to be touched everywhere at the same time. 'I love,' Jon continued with a groan, 'how fucking incredible your body is.'

His hand moved lower until he was cupping Theon's cock, now almost completely hard again.  
He groaned and pushed up into Jon's grip. 'You're very welcome to show me some love down there,' he teased. Jon pulled up his head and his eyes were dark with want. He kissed Theon once, hard, and then slid down the bed.  
Theon groaned as Jon licked a hot, wet stripe up his now aching cock. He put an arm behind his head so he could look at the incredible sight of the man between his legs. Jon held his cock loosely in one fist as he licked up its length, stroke after stroke, never quite reaching the tip. Theon shuddered under the touch. He could see the precome gathering at the tip of his cock, and knew Jon knew it too - knew how much he wanted to be swallowed down, but the other man was focussed on mapping Theon's shaft with his tongue.

Then Jon brought his other hand up to cup Theon's balls. He hissed out a breath as Jon began to rub at them. Then the other man slid his face down lower, slowly jacking Theon's aching cock as he _licked_ messily at his balls. Theon let out a groan of pleasure and spread his legs wider. He didn't care what he looked like. He just needed Jon's mouth on him, Jon's hands on him.  
'Fuck,' he gasped. 'Jon, don't stop.'  
Jon hummed his agreement and the sound vibrated through Theon's balls, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock.  
He dropped a hand to Jon's hair, tangling his fingers in the soft, black curls. He urged Jon back up. He needed the other man's mouth on him. Right now. Jon nipped lightly at the inside of his thigh and chuckled as Theon jumped with a moan.

But he moved, licking again up Theon's shaft before enclosing his cock in the hot, perfect heat of his mouth. Theon cried out, bringing his other hand to Jon's head and forcing himself not to thrust against Jon's face.  
Jon seemed to sense what he wanted and he sucked down, swallowing Theon's cock in hot, wet pressure. He sobbed at the sensation, fingers tightening in Jon's hair. As he tugged, Jon let out another urgent moan that rippled through him. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Jon had moved onto his knees, one hand gripping his own cock, rubbing it back and forth in time with his movements as he sucked Theon's cock, rubbing him at the base, leaving him with a hot, tight sensation all the way up his shaft. 

He pulled at Jon's hair again and the other man sped up his movements as he moaned, eyes closed in pleasure.  
'Fuck Jon,' Theon gasped. 'So good. You're so good. You're perfect.'  
At those words Jon stiffened, his grip on Theon tightening momentarily as he shuddered and came, hot stripes painting Theon's thigh. At the sight of it, Theon couldn't help himself, he tightened his hands in Jon's hair and thrust up into his mouth. Jon moaned into the movement, bringing his hand to Theon's hip, still sticky with his come, and seeming to pull him closer, to want to swallow him down.

Theon panted as his cock hit the back of Jon's throat with every thrust. Jon was moaning against him almost constantly now, rubbing up and down his cock with every movement. He could feel his release building again and he could do nothing to slow it. Then Jon slipped a wet, tentative finger down over his balls and between his arse cheeks. Theon sobbed out a breath and widened his legs. Jon's finger rubbed lightly over his hole, pushing against it with the softest of pressure.

And that was all it took. The thought of Jon touching him there - wanting to touch him there - of them, one day, doing _that_. He didn't even have time to warn Jon before he was shooting down his throat, his orgasm ripped from him. He cried out, fingers tangled in Jon's hair, legs wrapped around the other man's body, holding him tight as he rode out the shockwaves of his release.

They collapsed into each other, Jon pressing a soft kiss against Theon's hip before he rested his head there, breathing heavily. Theon gentled his grip, carding his fingers softly through Jon's hair, just enjoying his ability to touch.

Finally Jon stirred, shuffling up the bed and reaching for his wand again. He murmured the cleaning charm and Theon felt the tingle of the magic passing over his body. Jon leaned in to kiss him and then stretched, running a hand through his hair, a small, happy smile on his face.  
'Hungry?' he asked.  
'What time is it?' Theon asked in response, feeling for the first time the dull ache of hunger.  
Jon looked out the window. 'Around five, by the looks of that.'  
Theon's eyes widened. 'Wow, guess I needed that sleep.'  
Jon's smile widened, seemingly in satisfaction that Theon was now well rested. 'Food?' he asked again.

Theon nodded and stretched as well. 'Yeah. And I need to … clean up a bit,' he said, wrinkling his nose at the lingering tingle of the spell. Jon leaned in to kiss him again and then slid out of bed, grabbing a pair of loose sweatpants from the floor and slipping them on. They sat low on his hips and Theon let his gaze rest unashamedly on Jon's naked back, watching the play of muscles and the languid swirl of his tattoos. He could almost pinch himself at how lucky he was.  
Jon leaned back in for another quick kiss and then disappeared out the door, not bothering with a shirt.

Theon lay back a moment longer, then forced himself up, pulling a pair of boxers off the ground and slipping them on. The bathroom was only across the hall. He stepped out the door and stopped abruptly as a small, blurred shape rushed at him. Then the figure hit him, drawing the air out of his lungs as it wrapped its arms around him. Theon looked down in bemusement to see Arya, face resting on his chest as she hugged him tight. He'd barely brought his own arms up in response when she was stepping back, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  
'Seriously, squid boy? You nearly die because you're being possessed by some demonic book that's sucking out your soul, next minute you're letting my brother suck your soul out your dick or something?'  
Theon flushed and looked down, his embarrassment deepening as he saw the line of red marks leading down his chest and across his stomach, with one sitting on his hip, just under the edge of his boxers.

Arya cackled at the look on his face. 'Tell him to renew his privacy charms more often will you, you two are _loud_.'  
'Oh, Gods,' Theon groaned, putting a hand over his face.  
Arya just laughed louder. 'Just teasing squid boy. I'm glad you're okay.' With that she punched him in the arm and disappeared down the hall.  
Theon finished up quickly in the bathroom and shut himself back in Jon's room, before he could run into any more Starks.

It wasn't long before Jon re-appeared carrying a bowl of a delicious smelling meaty stew and a few slices of crusty bread. As he approached the bed, his eyes dipped to Theon's naked chest and his gaze darkened. Theon realised with a thrill that Jon was turned on by the fact that he'd left his marks all over Theon's body. He stretched subtly, turning his head to one side to show one of the biggest hickies, the one that he'd noticed in the mirror earlier. Jon drew in a breath that sounded like a groan and handed over the food, putting a glass of water on the bedside table.  
He sat on the edge of the bed as Theon ate, swinging one foot over the side. He seemed slightly on edge, like he wanted to say something but didn't know where to start.

Theon swallowed his last mouthful of food and quirked an eyebrow, putting his bowl to one side. 'Spit it out, Snow,' he said teasingly. 'I think we've come a bit far to be shy with each other.'  
Jon's eyes widened, but he took a breath and nodded. 'Last night,' he began slowly, 'After you threw off the Imperious, what happened? One minute you were trying not to crucio me, next minute you were burning that diary.'  
Theon frowned slightly, 'That quick?' he asked. Jon nodded and Theon gave a small laugh. 'Felt like a lifetime. Come up here?' He patted the bed beside him and Jon crawled up so they were sitting side by side. Jon held out his hand, palm up, and Theon placed his in it, leaning his head on Jon's shoulder as the other man ran a thumb over his scars. He realised it didn't bother him in the slightest anymore to have Jon see his damaged hand. He smiled slightly.

'It was strange,' he began quietly, haltingly, trying to gather his thoughts. 'It was like the thing had stolen all of my good memories and I … one by one, I took them back.' He smiled slightly at the memory of some of them. 'It didn’t want me to. I had to fight it at first. But then - the more I took back, the more I … just knew that I could do it. That I was strong enough to fight it, you know.' Theon looked up to see Jon looking down at him, an expression of pride on his face.  
'It - in the end I was thinking of Pyke - the good parts, swimming in the ocean, exploring with Asha … my mum.'  
Jon's fingers tightened on his and his voice was soft when he spoke, 'I'd like to see it, some time?'  
'Hmm?' Theon asked, feeling sleepy, resting beside Jon, with his belly fully of food and the sun going down outside the porthole.  
'Pyke. I'd like to see it sometime, if you want to show it to me, that is.'  
At this he looked up, a smile tugging itself across his face. 'Yeah? It's pretty barren,' he said. 'There's not a lot but sand and water. You might not like-'  
Jon interrupted him, putting a finger under his chin to tilt his chin up for a kiss, soft and sweet and lingering.  
'It's your home,' he said, when they parted, grey eyes meeting Theon's. 'I want to see it.'

'Sure,' he said. 'I'd like that.' Then he smiled, looking up into Jon's serious face. 'I guess you can't hate it too much. You don't have a lot to compare it to … growing up on some icy mountain with three other people like you did …'  
His grin widened at the look of surprise, followed by mock outrage that crossed Jon's face.  
'Oh really?' Jon growled playfully, shifting so he was leaning across Theon, 'Maybe I better drag you up to Winterfell for a comparison then? We can see who had the more deprived childhood.'  
Theon felt his breath catch as Jon leaned in closer and captured his mouth in a kiss.  
He nodded into it, mumbling into Jon's mouth, 'I'll line my dead fish up against your frostbite any day.' Jon laughed into his mouth and shifted so he was sitting on Theon's lap, bringing his hands up to cup Theon's face, deepening the kiss.

It was a long moment before he drew back, smiling down at Theon as he said, 'You talk to much.' Then he leaned back in. It was a long time before Theon spoke again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was nice to write them some happy times for a change. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
>  
> 
> Would love to chat on Tumblr if you want to look me up @squirrel-and-me
> 
>  
> 
> Also @owlsinathens has created these amazing, adorable chibi characters for the story except I can't link to them because I'm shit and I don't know how. They're on my tumblr if you want to wade back ...
> 
> As always, comments are life :)


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! Life, you know.
> 
> I started Roller Derby a few months back and have been getting super into it. Unfortunately that eats into my writing time :(
> 
> But anyway, here's a few thousand words of fun.

Walking up to the Castle the next day, Theon felt … calm. That layer of anxiety that had shadowed him for so long on the grounds of Hogwarts was gone. It was heady, to be without it. He stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. Jon glanced over at him and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

The Great Hall was bustling with the normal breakfast noise when they approached it. A few people in the entrance caught sight of them and Theon noticed a ripple of whispers and nudges spread along the tables. He wondered why - surely Bolton wouldn't have told anyone Theon had bested him on top of the Astronomy tower … maybe someone had seen him fall from it … seen Theon move to the edge a second later.   
He was startled out of his thoughts as he felt a strong, calloused hand catch his, then Jon was twining their fingers together and pulling him forward towards their normal spot at the Gryffindor table with a shy smile.

At this, the whispers exploded, people on every table craning their necks to see if it was true - Snow, Quidditch Star and Durmstrang heartthrob was holding hands with … _Theon Greyjoy?_. Theon glanced across at Jon, who quirked an eyebrow at him, a small, long suffering smile crossing his face. Theon leaned in to him, trying to ignore the staring eyes, and muttered, 'I hope my fame doesn't put you off. I'm a Triwizard Champion you know. And excellent Dark Curse Breaker and Psychopathic Wizard Defeater.' He put on his best 'Arrogant Snow', expression and Jon snorted, cracking a proper, full smile and leaning over to press a quick kiss to Theon's cheek. The hubbub around the Hall tripled in volume at this display.  
'I think I can handle it,' Jon said in a low warm voice, all of his focus on Theon. 

Theon felt a glow of happiness spread through him as he joined the other Durmstrang students, already at the table. Tormund looked up from his huge pile of bacon, toast, eggs, beans and sausages.  
'Ah, yeh've finished fucking then?' His eyes twinkled with laughter.  
Theon could basically feel Jon going red beside him, but he tipped the huge, red haired man a wink. 'Not finished. Refuelling. Can't fuck right on an empty stomach.'  
Tormund slapped the table, laughing loudly. 'You'll do, Greyjoy,' he grinned. Across the table Robb was shaking his head and Arya was giggling into her pumpkin juice.

Theon glanced across at Jon, a little worried he'd gone too far, but the look in Jon's eyes was hot and wanting all of a sudden. For a moment Theon considered skipping classes and heading back to the boat to spend the day twined around Jon … but they'd both already missed too many classes. He sighed, letting his regret show in his face and Jon rubbed his leg softly.  
'Gross,' Arya said, 'Get a room you two. Preferably one off the ship. Your privacy charms are shit big brother.' This was to Jon, who aimed a kick at her under the table. Theon let the banter flow around him, tucking into breakfast as though he hadn't eaten in days. 

It wasn't until Ygritte said something about the Challenge that he looked back up. She was staring across at Jon, one eyebrow raised.  
'Um, I haven't thought about it,' he said, the markings around his eyes tightening.  
'What do you mean you haven't thought about it. The Challenge is next week, Jon Snow. How are you supposed to win if you have no idea what you're doing.'  
Jon's face flushed, this time with anger. 'I've had a lot more important things on my mind lately, Ygritte,' he said, voice low.  
Her eyes flicked across to meet Theon's and there wasn't much warmth in them. Theon didn't look away.  
'We're working on it tonight,' Theon said, running his fingers lightly over Jon's thigh. The other man relaxed slightly under his touch, leaning back a fraction, his markings smoothing out. 'I've got a few ideas.' Theon caught Robb from the corner of his eye, looking between the two of them with interest.

'Do you at least know what you have to do?' Ygritte asked, unphased by Jon's momentary hostility.  
Theon nodded when Jon made no move to speak. He remembered back to the pool, the memory of the mermaid's song clear despite the fog of despair that had covered his every thought through that time.  
'Something's going to be taken from us, and we have to go to the bottom of the Lake to get it back.'  
Ygritte widened her eyes, and Theon remembered that time on the Lake, where she'd admitted to not knowing how to swim. It seemed the idea of it was enough to keep her quiet, and the rest of the meal passed with little conversation.

'So what's your idea,' Gendry asked, as they walked towards the Greenhouses and their Herbology lesson.  
Theon glanced over his shoulder to make sure Ygritte wasn't in earshot. 'No fucking clue. I've spent the last few weeks trying not to die. Thinking about other ways I might die in the future hasn’t been high on my priority list.'  
Gendry snorted, 'Better you than me. Seriously though,' he looked at Theon first and then Jon. 'If there's anything I can do to help either of you with this,' he made a gesture as though no more had to be said. Theon felt a glow of warmth in his chest.

He took his normal seat in Herbology and looked around the greenhouse, realising that he had absolutely no idea what the class was studying. He'd been so out of it the last few weeks. He felt his happiness dimming. He'd been so certain this year that he'd be able to keep his grades up. As a Champion, he was exempt from the end of year tests … but if he didn't know what he was doing this year, he would never manage to complete his N.E.W.T.S next year.  
Tarly seemed to sense his rising unhappiness, because he leaned around behind Jon to murmur, 'We've been working on desert plants - ones that can attract rain, hold water, cure stings from desert creatures, that sort of thing.' The Ravenclaw hesitated, before dropping his voice lower, with a quick glance to the front of the greenhouse and adding, 'I think Professor Mormont is trying to impress the Beauxbatons … well one of them anyway. Daenerys grew up somewhere really dry.'

Theon followed Tarly's gaze to see that, as usual, Professor Mormont was beginning the class by standing in front of the Beauxbaton students' table, carrying on an animated, yet some how deferential conversation with their silver-haired champion. He snorted, thinking Tarly's interpretation was pretty accurate.  
Professor Mormont finally tore himself away to head to the front of the classroom.  
'Good morning all,' he said, looking across to the group of violet-eyed students with a particularly warm smile. 'This morning, we'll be continuing our study of the Arid Death Dodger. I'd like you all to pair up and move to a station.' He gestured around the room where a number of sandpits had been set up. Theon couldn't see any plants in evidence, and that, coupled with the name of the thing and the fact that he couldn't remember learning a single thing about it, made him nervous.  
'As discussed last week,' the Professor continued, blithely. 'Your task is to lure the Arid Death out of its hiding place under the sand, to capture it, to milk the water it's carrying and to release it. Remember, the thorns detach, and if one touches your skin, you'll find it's burrowed in far quicker than you can stop it. The poison spreads quickly so … don't let it touch you.'

With that he clapped his hands and moved across the greenhouse to the sandpit that Daenerys had moved to with her cousin. Theon was slow to chose a spot, meaning he and Jon ended up wandering over to the other side of the room. He was in no hurry to approach the sand. Maybe good grades weren't the most important thing in the world.  
He overheard Daenerys clear voice from behind him as she stuck up a conversation with the Professor, and then Mormont's response, 'Yes, Khaleesi?'  
Theon nearly gagged. Suddenly he was happy he'd been zoned out in class lately.  
'These dry climate plants are _fascinating_ Professor, but I was wondering if you have much information about plants that prefer a wet environment?'

'Of course,' he said, 'We'll be moving on to that in the next few weeks -'  
'I was specifically wondering, Professor,' Daenerys interrupted him, lowering her voice. 'If you know of any plants that might be useful for someone who needs to … say … spend some time under water.'  
Suddenly all of Theon's concentration was on the two behind him and he nudged Jon, tilting his head back to indicate the other man should listen too. They both slowed their steps further.  
There was a pause, before the Professor spoke, and now his voice was lowered too. Theon strained to listen. 'Well, I mean, yes, there are one or two I know of. But … really … I … that is to say students - Champions - aren't permitted to seek assistance -'  
Theon felt a spark of excitement at the statement - he hadn't even _thought_ to use plants to beat the challenge … he knew just the thing.  
A silvery laugh interrupted the teacher's words, 'Of course not, Professor. I meant nothing of the sort. Just an idle curiosity on my part. I was wondering though -' and now her eyes shifted past the Professor to meet Theon's. He was only a few metres away, but her regard was icy. He gave her a cocky grin, not bothering to try and hide the fact that he'd been eavesdropping.

She narrowed her eyes at him and returned her gaze to Mormont, 'If I could have a private lesson later tonight. I find I'm really struggling with the properties of some of the Sun Soaker charms you've been demonstrating to us.'   
Mormont seemed to relax at this, smiling across at her. 'Of course, of course. Nothing to it my dear, I'd be happy to show you -' Theon tuned the conversation out, sure he'd gotten everything he could from it. He looked across at Jon, who didn't seem to share the same excitement as him.  
Theon leaned in close, enjoying the warmth of Jon's body and the clean, sharp scent of him. 'I just figured out how we're going to survive under water for an hour,' he said with a grin.

Jon's look was interested and he opened his mouth to ask more, but Theon flicked his eyes to Daenerys, who was watching them again as Professor Mormont continued talking at her.   
Jon looked over his shoulder and nodded. 'Talk to you after class,' he said, drawing his wand and stepping into the sand box. Something came hurtling out of the sand at him in a golden blur and he stunned it wordlessly, with a flick of his wand and then levitated it, gesturing to Theon to pass him the glass vial on the table beside the pit of sand.   
'Can you watch for more while I milk this one?' he asked.   
Theon eyed the spiky, sinuous plant sideways before he sighed, drew his wand, and stepped on to the sand. 

As they walked out of class, Theon glanced around to make sure the Beauxbaton students were out of sight and then turned to Jon, Robb and Gendry.   
'I've figured out how we can do the Challenge,' he said, 'Gillyweed!'  
The three of them looked blankly at him and he looked back, nonplussed.   
'You've seriously never heard of Gillyweed? We used to use it all the time when we were kids. I can't believe I didn't think of it before now.'

'Theon,' Robb said, his tone patient, 'What _is_ it?'  
'It's a plant - tastes vile - that gives you ... well gills basically. So you can breathe underwater, and webbed fingers and toes.' He held up his hands to demonstrate. 'It turns an average swimmer into next best thing to a merperson. We used to use it to dive for pearls and crayfish. You could stay under forever. It was brilliant.'  
He grinned at them, but the others were exchanging glances he couldn't read.   
'Do you ... do you have to be able to swim?' Jon asked, cheeks reddening slightly.   
Theon looked at him, shocked, 'You can't swim?'  
Jon shook his head.   
'What is it with you Northerners?' he joked. 'It's amazing you don't all stink a lot more considering it sounds like you don't actually know what water is.'  
Robb snorted, 'We have plenty of water, it mostly just falls from the sky and banks up in snowdrifts twenty feet high. Doesn't exactly make you want to get your kit off.'  
Theon frowned, conceding the point. Then he looked at Jon. 'It _might_ still be a good idea ... maybe we could test it out, see how you go.' Then he paused, frowning. 'I'd need to get some first ... We used to grow it at home ... Asha's not even around at the moment for me to ask her to send some ...'

There was a polite cough behind them, as someone cleared their throat. They all turned, to see Samwell Tarly, looking shy.   
'I - ah - couldn't help overhearing and - well, I have Gillyweed, if you want some. It's one of the things cultivating. It reminds me of-' he reddened and didn't finish his sentence. 'Anyway, I have a patch down by the lake.'  
Theon felt a broad grin spread across his face. 'Tarly, I could kiss you!' he declared. Sam's eyes opened wide with shock and Theon laughed at the look, then he glanced sideways at Jon, whose face had pulled into its characteristic glower, and laughed harder.

'You can both relax,' he laughed, leaning in towards Jon, bringing one hand up to cup his face. 'There's only one person around here I want to kiss.' And then his lips met Jon's and the other man was pulling him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the CHALLENGE :D
> 
> As always, love to know what you thought.
> 
> Would love to chat on Tumblr (@squirrel-and-me)


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! Sorry for such slow progress between updates. Hope you've stayed with me!
> 
> Enjoy the Second Challenge :)

The day of the second challenge dawned clear and bright. Theon had been up before the sun rose, standing on the deck of the Durmstrang ship, looking out over the cold, dark water. He felt an equal mix of fear and anticipation at the thought of what was to come. The sun's rays seemed to spill across the Lake and he slipped his hand into his pocket, yet again, to feel for the small pouch of gillyweed he'd placed there.

He didn't turn when he heard the scuff of footsteps behind him, and a moment later, warm, strong arms slipped around him and Jon's chin was resting on his shoulder.  
'I missed you when I woke up,' Jon murmured, placing a kiss on the side of his neck. Theon smiled, but didn't take his eyes off the water.  
'Couldn't sleep,' he said, watching the unfathomable depths.  
'Nervous?' Jon asked, tightening his hold, as though trying to push the warmth of his body into Theon's.  
Theon nodded, 'A bit. It's a long way down to the bottom … and the people left up here aren't going to know what's happening until we surface …' He let the words _or don't_ hang unspoken between them.

'How are you feeling?' he asked instead. Jon shrugged and Theon wished he had some of the other man's confidence. Nothing seemed to phase Jon. He took every challenge in his stride.  
'I'm as prepared as I'll ever be I guess, though I'd rather be in the air than under the water, that's for sure.' Then he pulled Theon around to face him, placing a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.  
'Come on, come back inside, warm up and have something to eat before we have to get down there.'

\----

The noise of the crowd as deafening as they stood on the flimsy wooden platforms above the water of the Lake. Theon looked around for his sister as he waited for the countdown to start. Asha hadn't joined them for breakfast, which wasn't strange. She'd been up late with Ygritte when he'd finally gone to sleep the night before. But for her not to see him off this morning … Jon caught his eye, on the platform across from him. He was scanning the crowd too, and Theon saw Robb shaking his head, a worried frown on his face. Jon met Theon's gaze and mouthed _Arya_. Theon felt his concern deepen, and the words of the haunting mermaid's song came back to him abruptly,  
_We've taken what you'll sorely miss_

… surely not. He looked down into the murky depths of the water at his feet and felt his anxiety rise.

When he looked up again, it was Ramsay Bolton who caught his eye. The other man was glaring directly at him, and the look in his eyes was flat and cold. There was no passion, no rage, no games. There was just the promise of revenge, bloody and quick. Theon refused to drop his gaze. He stared back at Bolton, eyes narrowing in challenge. He'd beaten the bastard once, he could do it again if he needed to.

The shrill sound of a whistle and the cheering of the crowd broke his concentration and he realised the challenge had started. He shoved the handful of gillyweed into his mouth, grimacing at its slimy, sinewy texture and chewed it up as much as he could before forcing it down. Almost immediately, he felt the change begin to take over. He glanced to one side as he waited for the webs to finish forming between his fingers and toes, and for the familiar tightness of breath that would show his gills had formed.

To his right, Jon was already in the water, the transfiguration he'd been working on all week taking effect. A second later, sleek grey fins slashed through the water as the shark powered itself down into the depths.

He caught sight of Daenerys as well, the bubblehead charm covering the lower half of her face as she dove from the platform, cutting cleanly through the surface. Ramsay was nowhere to be seen and Theon spared a thought to wonder what charm he'd used … and where he could be, before he felt the tightness in his chest and the feeling that he just couldn't get any air.

He double checked his wand was strapped to his thigh and dove gracefully into the water, feeling himself slice through cleanly. Then he kicked out hard and shot down through the depths, feet now more like muggle flippers than anything else. The water rushed over his gills, cool and sweet and he blinked the transparent lenses over his eyes, clearing them of water. The murky depths were clearer to him now, and he could see a great kelp forest spread out below him. He kicked his feet and surged forward again, moving sinuously through the water. He spared a thought for the joy and the freedom of the feeling as he headed away from the platforms and the noise of the world above.

The others were nowhere in sight and he strained his ears for some hint of which direction he should move in. The words, _Come seek us where our voices sound,_ were running on a loop through his head and he was aware that every second he wasted moving around was a second closer to his time limit. Finally he heard the faint strains of a song moving through the depths. It was high and piercing, somehow not dulled by the water the way all other sounds were.

He changed direction immediately, shooting off to the side. Within a few minutes he began to come across what looked like the ruins of an old castle. Broken, crumbling stone with kelp and water plants growing all over it. He looked around - it was much darker down here - and caught sight of a flash of colour and movement in the corner of his eye. He jerked his head one way, and then another as he saw another flash of movement. Then he saw the flip of a scaled tail and the grimace of a face full of teeth and realised he'd found the mermaids. He swam faster, towards the song that was growing ever louder.

He pulled himself past a huge stone pillar and stopped at the sight that met his eyes. There were three bodies floating in the water, still and lifeless, arms spread. He focussed in on the middle one - _Asha_ \- and swam over to her, reaching up for her neck and then exhaling in relief when he felt the slow, but present, beating of her heart. He pulled out his wand and aimed it down, severing the rope that bound her feet with a quick jerk. She began to float towards the surface and he pulled her closer, running one hand over her motionless face, anger stirring in him. This was sick - to do this to someone - to put someone's life at risk for a _competition_. 

He looked around, taking in the other faces for the first time. Drogo floated to his right and Theon realised he must be there for Daenerys to collect. Then he looked to his left and saw Arya. His eyes widened and he reached for his wand again, ready to cut her free. As he did, a mermaid powered forward, pointing its vicious trident at him in what was a clear direction to leave her be. He considered pulling his wand anyway, but as he thought it, he saw a sleek, grey form cut through the water. Jon made directly for Arya, razor teeth cutting through her rope with ease. 

He circled again as she began to float towards the surface and Theon thought he could read concern in the shark's black eyes. He reached out to run his fingers along its back as it passed and then gave it a little shove, telling Jon to get up to the surface. He did, moving quickly through the water, catching Arya's robes in his mouth as he did so and propelling her forward.

Then Theon turned his attention back to the last of the captives. Daenerys had to be there soon. He cast a tempus, eyeing the mermaids warily, but none moved to stop him. It had been forty minutes. The challenge was more than half way over. The gillyweed would last him another half an hour after that, and he considered leaving, but then he looked around at the mermaids, baring vicious teeth and recalled the words again, _But past an hour, the prospect's black, Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

He couldn't just leave Drogo here. He looked around again, shifting Asha in his grip, surely she must be coming. He eyed the floating rope that indicated Ramsay had been and gone long before he arrived and hoped that the woman was safe.

He cast the tempus again - fifty minutes - and decided he had to act. His wand was already out and he severed the rope with a jerk and then whirled, pointing it at the mermaids who'd rushed at him, teeth bared. He bared his teeth in turn, wand gripped in a steady hand, and let them see in his face that he wouldn't hesitate to stun them. They backed off but circled around him, faces showing their displeasure.

He gripped each of the ropes in his bad hand and kept his wand clenched in his good one as he moved out of the grotto, dragging the two unconscious forms behind him. It was harder to swim now, without the use of his webbed hands, with the fact that he had to drag two dead weights with him and with the need to keep looking all around himself for a mermaid attack. 

But the mermaids soon fell back, seemingly preferring to remain close to their homes. Theon cast a locator spell and swam back towards the platforms as quickly as he could manage. He was running out of time, and didn't know what would happen when the hour was up. If Asha and Drogo woke up underwater, it would be disastrous.

Now that he was swimming straight, rather than wandering around the Lake in search of the mermaids, he was making better time, and it was only a few minutes before he was heading back over the kelp forests that had marked the location of the platforms.

He was so focussed on the surface above and the faint shapes of the platforms he could see sinking into the water in the distance, that when the first clawed hand grabbed his ankle it caught him completely by surprise. He spun, twisting down and kicking his leg. What he saw below him made his heart rocket in fright. It was a grindylow … It was a grindylow wearing Ramsay Bolton's face. The creature grinned in savage delight and pulled him down harder, suckers wrapping around his legs. 

He lifted his arm to shoot a stunning spell at it, but before he could, clawed hands grabbed his arm. He looked around wildly to see another of the creatures behind him. And then he felt another grab his leg. And another. He looked around eyes wide and panicked and saw five of them … ten … fifty. They were rising from the depth of the kelp forest, fanged mouths wide, clawed hands reaching for him, tentacles waving in their haste to lay hands on him.

He shot off a spell, knocking a group of the creatures above him out, and leaving them floating limply in the water. But more flowed in to fill the gap. Then they started to reach for Asha and Drogo. Theon panicked, letting go of the ropes and wrenching his arm out of the grindylow's grip so that he could shoot a spell at them, _pushing_ them up and away from the group of swarming creatures. He saw them moving rapidly towards the surface and then his attention was wrenched back to himself as one of the creatures sank fanged teeth into his leg.

He let out a muffled shout of pain and pointed his wand down, aiming for the same propulsion spell. But as he did, more and more of the creatures piled in close, grabbing any part of him they could reach, and grabbing each other in their need to get to him. He lifted himself a few metres in the water but then he was dragged back down under their combined weight.

Then one of them pulled its way up his body until its face was right up close against his and Theon recognised the distorted features of Ramsay Bolton again. He stared at the man in horror. His transfiguration had given him the vicious, hungry look of the grindylows but Theon could easily read the sick pleasure on his face at finally having Theon at his mercy. Bolton gripped clawed hands either wide of his face and stared into his eyes. The creatures around him slowed their frantic movement, hanging in anticipation of his action.

Then Bolton leaned in slowly, deliberately, and pressed his fanged mouth against Theon's in the parody of a kiss. Theon recoiled, wrenching himself away and he saw silent laughter in the creature's face. Then Bolton pulled back, reaching down for a piece of rope and securing it in his clawed fist before propelling himself up, out of the crowd of grindylows, pulling a limp form behind him. As soon as he was clear, the creatures swarmed again, as though released from a spell. They were all around him - he couldn't see the surface anymore. Then he felt starbursts of pain bloom across his body as the creatures began to bite. He screamed again, bubbles emptying from his mouth and shot out stunner after stunner from his wand.

He was hitting them, knocking them back - but they were everywhere. Every time he threw some off him, more took their place. He tried to shoot sparks to the surface - to do anything to get the attention of the world above, but he couldn't even tell which way was up. He could feel his lungs starting to burn for air and felt his panic ratcheting up - _the gillyweed was wearing off_.

He twisted and thrashed, trying to get loose from their constricting hold, but it was no good, nothing was working. He couldn't think - didn't know what else he could do to get rid of them. What could possibly threaten a swarm of grindy-

And suddenly he knew.

He shot his wand out straight and _focussed_ sending a burst of patterned light out. It shot beyond him, blinding him as it flashed through the crowd of creatures and spread through the depths of the Lake. Then he shot out another stunner and another.

The burning in his chest was getting stronger and he could feel his hands and feet shrinking back to normal. He blinked and the Lake got darker. His spells were doing less and less and he had no idea how many bites he'd taken. He felt the need to draw in breath become overwhelming and had a moment to think that there were so many reasons he didn't want to die … and then something changed.

The hands on him released. The crush of slimy, tentacled bodies withdrew, slowly at first and then with astonishing speed as every single one of the creatures turned to flee. He was left, floating in the water, tendrils of blood streaming from dozens of wounds. He could see the surface, but had nothing left in him to get there.  
The last thing he saw was the Giant Squid propelling itself towards him, its body flashing in the same smooth display of colours he'd sent out. _Food. Warning. Danger. Help. Food._

He reached out towards it as his vision went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight cliffhanger, but clearly Theon's fine :)
> 
> It was a lot of fun to write and to think about canon but also to see how I wanted to change it.
> 
> What did you recon??


	42. Chapter 42

It was the voices that woke him up. Arguing … no, not arguing … bickering. He focused on what he could hear - it was Arya being teased by Gendry for being unconscious for the whole Challenge - and then huffed a small laugh, wincing in pain as the movement pulled something deep in his chest.  
Immediately a warm hand tightened in his and he heard Jon's familiar voice. 'He's awake. Get the Healer. Theon, can you hear me?'

Theon struggled to open his eyes, wincing again at the bright light of the Hospital Wing. He looked up into Jon's concerned but relieved face. Jon quirked him a small smile, 'Hey,' he said softly. 'How are you feeling?'  
Theon struggled to push himself up in bed and Jon immediately reached for his arm, then he felt a presence on his other side and looked across to see Robb, holding his other arm. He shuffled back in the bed, grimacing as the movement, and his deeper breathing, rasped pain through his chest. He looked up and around to see Asha sitting on the end of his bed, Ygritte leaning behind her. His sister gave him a hard look, ' _Du bist fast gestorben, Boë. Was hast du dir dabei gedacht!_ '  
'I didn't almost die,' Theon rasped, coughing slightly at the feeling of his raw throat. The cough send a spasm of pain through his chest and he clutched at his ribs. Asha raised an eyebrow at him, frown deepening. She looked ready to say more, but Ygritte put a hand on her shoulder and Asha pursed her lips.

He felt Jon's hand tighten on his and looked across. Jon looked _wrecked_. 'You - Theon you were under for so long. It was -'  
At that moment Madam Maegyr moved across to the bed, looking Theon up and down.  
'Right,' she said, giving Jon a smile, but clearly asking him to move back, 'Let's have a look at you, then Mr. Greyjoy.' She pulled out her wand and cast a series of spells over him, watching as they returned various colours or sounds. Then she nodded and looked back at him, 'How are you feeling?'  
'Like I swallowed half of the Black Lake,' he muttered.  
The Healer cracked a smile, 'You basically did. It was a good thing I was on standby on the platform when the squid dropped you on the deck-' Theon's eyes widened in amazement, _When the squid_ what?  
'You swallowed a lot of water and were without air for some time, but according to the readings I'm getting, it wasn't long enough to cause any lasting harm. You'll have sore ribs and a sore throat,' Theon nodded in agreement, 'But those should fade in the next few days. I'll give you something for the pain in the meantime. I've already given you something for the blood loss and used essence of Dittany on all of the grindylow bites, so you shouldn't have any scars. You are very lucky, Theon,' she said, looking at him seriously. 'You were very close to not making it out of that Lake alive.'

Jon moved back in to sit on the side of the bed, taking up Theon's hand again. He didn't seem to be able to stop himself from the physical contact. Theon found he didn't mind at all, leaning into Jon's side and closing his eyes momentarily while he processed what he'd just heard. He'd almost _died_. It wasn't like it was the first time … but somehow he had so much more to live for now.  
'You can have fifteen minutes with him,' the Healer said to the assembled group. 'And then he needs to rest.' Jon tensed and Theon had a feeling he wouldn't be leaving after fifteen minutes. The thought comforted him. He had a flashback of the murky green waters, the grindylows all around him, Ramsay's vicious face full of teeth before he'd abandoned him to his fate.  
'What happened?' he croaked, needing to fill in the blanks in his memory.

'It was awesome!' Arya said, jumping up and down slightly at the foot of his bed. 'The squid came out of nowhere. I was awake by then,' she glared at Gendry, 'and everyone was getting really panicked because all the other Champions had come back out. Jon was …' She glanced at him and blanched slightly as though in memory, 'Not good. Then they saw your sister and that Hufflepuff come up to the surface and start splashing around, but there was no sign of you. So the Dark Arts Professor and Davos just like _shoot_ themselves over the water to pick up the others and they're calling for help for you, because they couldn't see you anywhere, but the Triwizard spell or something,' she looked around and the others nodded in acknowledgement, 'wouldn't let them go underwater.'

Theon felt the claws on him again, the teeth and the tentacles and he shivered slightly. Jon curled an arm around him protectively and pressed a kiss to his hair as they listened silently to Arya's re-telling.  
'So _everyone's_ freaking out now, but then, out of nowhere, giant tentacles - like _huge_ tentacles - come out of the water and this massive squid comes up to the surface in front of everyone. Its eye was bigger than me, I swear-'  
'Arya,' Robb said in a long suffering voice, motioning her to hurry up.  
She poked her tongue out at him, but continued, 'So it's got these colours flowing over it and the teachers are all trying to get the students to safety and preparing to stun the thing - like that would have worked - and then someone saw that it was holding _you_ in one of its tentacles. It was crazy. You were limp and blue and you looked like you were de-'  
'Arya,' Robb said again, his voice a warning this time as he flicked his eyes to Jon's face. Theon saw a glimpse of anguished pain before Jon forced a neutral expression onto his face. He pressed in closer against Jon's body, offering comfort the only way he could.  
'Anyway,' Arya said, 'That's the story of how Theon Greyjoy made sure that he would be called Squid Boy for the rest of eternity!' She gave a small bow and Theon couldn't help but smile.

'You came second,' Gendry said, from where he was sitting on the next bed over, 'Jon came first - he was quickest. He lost some points for what he did when you weren't coming up to the surface.' Theon looked at Jon questioningly, but the other man just shook his head. Gendry glanced between them then continued. 'Daenerys didn't finish and you rescued Drogo for her and that Bolton piece of scum got disqualified.'  
Theon sat up straighter, Jon's arm falling off his shoulder, 'What?' he rasped. 'What happened?'  
'He's been kicked out of school,' Jon said quietly, but with deep satisfaction from behind Theon.  
Theon turned to look at him, incredulous, then back at the group. 'And none of you thought to _lead_ with that? What the fuck happened to get him kicked out?'  
'The mermaids came up to the surface to tell the Headmaster what had happened,' Robb took over the telling. 'That Varys guy was the only one who could speak mermish and he translated loud enough for everyone to hear. They told him how you'd stayed back to save Drogo, even though he wasn't yours to save.'  
Robb looked at Theon steadily, 'And then they told him that the grindylow Challenger had ambushed the bubble Challenger and then trapped you under the water. They told him that Bolton had called every 'bottom feeder' - as they apparently call them - in the Lake to himself and had told them to tear you to pieces.'

Robb looked grimly satisfied as he continued, 'Bolton tried to deny it of course, his poor brother cowering behind him, still wet from the lake, but turns out merpeople can't lie. And Varys had said it loud enough for all the judges, most of the teachers and the press to hear. There was no hushing it up. He fucked up. He finally fucked up bad enough and publicly enough that his daddy's name couldn't protect him. He's been suspended from school for the rest of the year.'  
'He should be in Azkaban,' Asha interjected, and Theon could see that she was still furious about the whole thing. The sight of her rage was comforting. She never had been one for hand wringing and helplessness.  
Robb shrugged, 'Seems that's one step too far when you're the son of the Minister of Magic and it was _only_ a creature's word about what happened.'  
'He'll be brought back for the final challenge,' Jon said, his voice dark. 'Apparently the magic of the Tournament demands it.'

Theon couldn't bring himself to feel too concerned about that. Relief was sweeping through him at the thought that Bolton would be gone. He wouldn't be at school any more. Theon would be free of the shadow that had dogged him for so long. Free to just be a normal student - study and goof off and spend time with friends - without wondering what horrible thing Bolton had planned next. He could feel a smile stretching across his face and he leaned back against the pillows of his bed, letting Jon's warm arm wrap around him once more.

Madam Maegyr came back across and made a shooing motion at them all. Jon stayed where he was, and she gave him an exasperated look but didn't challenge him on it. Asha pushed off the end of the bed and came to give Theon a rough hug, muttering in his ear, 'What are you doing picking me as the thing you'll sorely miss, you sap.' When she drew back her face was faintly pink and he could see the pleased embarrassment written across it.  
'I didn’t pick you, _Schwesterherz_ , the magic did,' he said, smirking up a her, 'I guess it just knew how much I love being constantly hassled by my big sister and how devastated I would be if you weren't here to annoy me.'  
She ruffled his hair with a mock glare and a muttered, 'Smartarse,' and turned towards the door.  
Theon thought he heard Robb saying something to the Healer about how he would have saved her if he'd been chosen and he rolled his eyes. Then they were all gone and the hospital wing was silent. It was a silence that suddenly seemed to fill the room and he was almost hesitant to look across at Jon and see what was on his face.

Jon sighed beside him and his arm tightened fractionally on Theon's shoulders. Theon twisted, so he was half sitting, half lying on his side, facing Jon. Jon's grey eyes were stormy and he traced his fingers lightly down Theon's face.  
'I was so scared,' he whispered. 'I thought I'd lost you. I tried so hard to get back into the water - to get to you. I got past everyone on the platform but this _thing_ , this force, just stopped me. There was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry.'  
Theon tilted his face up to Jon's so that their lips met. The kiss was soft and lingering and when they parted, Theon rested his head on Jon's chest.

'I'm fine,' he said, listening to the other man's heartbeat. 'None of this is your fault. Besides,' he looked up, smiling at Jon, 'I totally had it under control.'  
Jon huffed a laugh that almost sounded like a sob and bent his head to capture Theon's mouth again. This time the kiss was hard and needy. Theon could feel the pain and fear and desperation behind it. And suddenly he felt the adrenaline of the morning flood back through him. _He'd almost died_. He opened his mouth and Jon's tongue slid in, claiming him, at the same time as the other man pulled him closer. Theon moved his hands up to tangle them in Jon's hair, rolling onto his back and urging Jon on top of him. It twinged his ribs but suddenly he wanted this. _Needed it_.

He groaned at the feeling of Jon's body against his and Jon broke from his mouth to kiss his way down Theon's neck, hands moving under the blankets, pulling his shirt up with hurried movements. 'Thought I'd lost you,' Jon muttered into his neck, voice husky with need, before he moved up to kiss Theon again, mouth hot and hard. His hands were on Theon's body now, grasping and stroking, as though he wanted to touch every part of Theon, to reassure himself he was still there.  
Theon opened his eyes for a second and looked around the room, reaching wildly for his wand on the table beside the bed. One of Jon's hands was reaching down his pants now and he gasped at the sensation of the other man's calloused palm on his rapidly hardening cock.  
He grasped his wand and flicked it, closing the curtains around the hospital bed, before muttering a broken ' _Muffliato_ ' that he wasn't sure even worked. A moment later he didn't care. Jon shuffled back in the bed, pulling the blankets down with him.  
He pressed a kiss to the skin at Theon's hip before looking up, just a glance of grey eyes gone dark with need, to check that Theon was okay. Theon bit his lip and tightened the grip of his fingers in Jon's hair almost involuntarily. Jon growled, a low rumble in his chest and then pulled Theon's pyjama pants down, reaching in and freeing his cock. A second later he was swallowing it down and Theon cried out, arching up from the bed as he was engulfed in hot, sucking heat.

Jon groaned around him, one hand stroking Theon's shaft as his mouth moved up and down. There was no finesse, no teasing, just raw, fast, hard, desire. Theon gasped and moaned, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he fisted his hands in Jon's hair, legs writhing on the bed. It felt _so good_. Almost primal, like Jon was letting himself go in a way he never had before with Theon. As he thought that, he felt his cock hit the back of Jon's throat and he cried out again. In response, Jon just sucked harder, pushing deeper.  
Then he stopped, pulling back. Looking up at Theon, he reached up to put two fingers on his lips. Theon opened his mouth with a groan and Jon slid his fingers in. Theon sucked them, hoping Jon was going to -  
Then Jon nudged Theon's legs apart, his fingers pushing firmly against his arse while the heat of his mouth engulfed his cock again. Theon shuddered under the dual sensations of Jon's fingers stroking him and the pressure of his mouth. He cried out as one of Jon's slick fingers breached him, whimpering at the sensation. They'd only done this once or twice. Jon seemed strangely shy when it came to going to the next level, but now he showed no hesitation. His finger worked in and out and Theon spread his legs, wanting more already. He could feel the pressure of his orgasm building. Jon slowed his mouth, his tongue working up his shaft and then finding that sensitive spot at the head of his cock that had Theon convulsing. As he did, Jon slid another finger in, crooking them just right and Theon felt a jolt of pleasure run through him.

Jon groaned and Theon looked down, gasping, to see he had his other hand down his pants and was fisting his cock in time with the movement of his fingers. The sight send a wave of heat through him.  
'Fuck, Jon,' Theon gasped. 'I'm so close.' Jon moaned in response, sucking harder, his fingers rubbing over that spot again and again. Theon could feel his orgasm rising, and then Jon convulsed with a grunt, his movement ceasing for the barest second before he pulled his hand up out of his pants and wrapped it around Theon's cock, gripping him tightly as he swallowed him down.  
The sight of Jon's mouth wrapped around him, the blissed out post-orgasm look spreading across his face, and the feeling of his fingers deep inside him was suddenly too much for Theon to take in. He felt all of it - Jon's need, his own desperation, the tide of relief and joy that he'd survived rising through him, cresting in a wave that was unstoppable.

He felt Jon take him deeper, the hot, tight suction of his mouth pulling his orgasm from him. His hands convulsed in Jon's hair as he stiffened and then he was coming. He felt the sensation ripped from him, and Jon's touch gentled, working him through it as he panted and moaned and called the other man's name.

Finally, he relaxed back onto the bed, spent and sated, and he felt Jon's fingers slip from him, felt a gentle kiss pressed to the head of his now sensitive cock, and then Jon was rearranging his clothes and his blankets and moving back up the bed. The look on his face was free of the anxiety and fear that had plagued it earlier. He looked relaxed - happy - and Theon smiled at him, a wide, blissed out smile that he hoped conveyed just how amazing the other man was.  
'You're amazing,' he murmured as Jon leaned back on one elbow beside him. Jon leaned in to kiss him again, a slow, lazy kiss. Theon could taste himself on the other man's tongue and he hummed in satisfaction.  
'I love you,' Jon whispered, drawing back a hairs breadth to look him in the eyes.  
Theon smiled, 'I love you too.'  
'I mean it,' Jon said, face serious. 'You're it for me, Theon. I know this is probably too soon and I know you probably think it's just because of what happened. But … I - there's just something about you. I've never felt as comfortable - nothing has ever felt as _right_ as I feel when I'm with you. I can't … I can't deal with the thought that something could have happened to you and I hadn't told you that.'  
His face was raw, as though he was laying everything bare and Theon could feel the honesty in every word. He'd never had anyone look at him the way Jon was looking at him right now.  
The intensity was too much. He pressed a quick kiss to Jon's lips and leaned in, pushing Jon back on the bed until his head was on the other man's shoulder.  
'You just try and get rid of me, Snow,' he said, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arm around the other man and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Du bist fast gestorben, Boë. Was hast du dir dabei gedacht!' - You almost died, Boë. What were you thinking!
> 
> 'Schwesterherz' - my heart's sister (used in a loving, teasing way)
> 
> If you're still with me after all this time, I'd love a hello. It's been a very long slog and I'm getting distracted by writing Drarry head canons and queuing up new stories to write ... I need motivation lol.
> 
> Not long to go now ... 6 more chapters ...


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday! So as a birthday gift to myself I've taken the day off to write. Hence a new chapter. Enjoy :)

He'd barely been out of the Hospital Wing for a day when he received the summons to be at the entrance to the Castle at the beginning of lunch. A sideways look showed him Jon had received the same one, and he groaned inwardly at the thought that it could only be for the media or the next challenge. Neither were enticing.

It was the Headmaster who met them, Lord Tywin looking over the three of them, and frowning at the absence of Bolton. Theon couldn't help the grin that spread across his face and turned away so their Headmaster couldn't see. Apparently he had been one of the ones arguing that Bolton's actions in the Lake had been within the parameters of the Competition. Theon reminded himself he didn’t even have to think about Bolton for the next two months. It was the start of March and the final Challenge wouldn't be until the end of the school year.  
The Headmaster interrupted his thoughts, gesturing that they should move off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. Theon frowned at the strangeness of the request. There had been no games all year - the Cup had been cancelled for the Tournament to take place. He couldn't think of any reason they'd need to go down there … unless some other sort of mad creature was being housed there.

His guess was wrong … but not as wrong as he'd hoped it would be. As they stepped forward between the stands and the pitch came into view, Theon's eyes widened to see what looked like hedges, knee high, growing in patterned, weaving rows, all across the massive oval.  
'The final Challenge will be a maze,' Lord Tywin's hard voice confirmed Theon's suspicions. He looked over the expanse of hedges and swallowed. Jon stepped closer so their shoulders were brushing together.  
'The Triwizard Cup will be placed at the centre of the maze and the Champion who reaches it first will emerge victorious.'  
'What's the catch?' Theon muttered, and Jon snorted softly.  
Lord Tywin must have heard them because he turned cold, pale eyes onto Theon and said, '"The catch", Mr Greyjoy, is that the maze will be filled with a number of … obstacles that you will need to overcome in order to be victorious.'  
Theon sighed, looking back over the expanse of hedges. Of course it would.

'You have until the fourteenth of May to prepare,' the Headmaster said, turning his gaze to Daenerys, 'I would recommend a wide range of spells, jinxs and counter curses.' Then he made a gesture, indicating the meeting was over, and their time with the maze was over. Theon wondered if he could come back later and commit the thing to memory, but as the thought occurred to him, he watched some of the hedges near the middle shiver strangely, and then move, merging with their neighbours and creating a new path where none had been before. He rolled his eyes. Of course the hedge was alive. Of course it was.

Jon and Theon hung back as they walked back up to the castle and Jon reached out to twine his fingers with Theon's. 'What do you think?' Jon asked, looking back over his shoulder.  
Theon shrugged, 'I think it probably means a lot more time in the library and practicing out in the forest between now and May …'  
Jon nodded, 'Bolton will be back for the Challenge. I don't want either of us to be unprepared for whatever shit he tries to pull. I might ask the others as well?' He quirked an eyebrow at Theon. 'They all know different defensive and offensive magic. At the very least maybe we can train against them, instead of getting used to each other's regular spells.'  
Theon nodded his agreement and then thought out loud, 'I wonder if we could get Professor Lannister to give us some "extra credit" lessons.'  
Jon looked sideways at him with a smirk. 'I forget how devious you are sometimes, Greyjoy.'

\-----

The next few weeks were a blur of school, training and leaning new spells, research at the library and stolen moments where he lost himself in Jon. It was a shock one morning when the Headmaster stood up at breakfast and silence descended over the Hall.  
'It has long been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament,' he began, 'that we remember some of the earliest celebrations of the Magical Community. Thus, before we hold the third challenge, on the first of May, we will be hosting a Beltane Night feast and dance.' He paused for a moment as exited whispers broke out all around the Hall.  
'Your History of Magic classes in upcoming weeks will cover the origins of Beltane, the rituals our ancestors conducted and the rights that were undertaken on the day to encourage growth and appease magical creatures who were not yet well understood at the time. There will also be,' he said, interrupting the collective groan at his words, 'a dancing teacher attending the school to provide education in traditional dances -' His next words were drowned out by the excited chatter that suddenly permeated the Hall - mainly from the girls around the room. The Headmaster just rolled his eyes and sat down, clearly not seeing the need to continue with the announcement.  
Theon turned his attention back to the table.  
'We should invite Sansa down,' Arya said with a huff, 'Dancing, ugh.'  
Robb nudged her with a smile, 'I don't think it will be so bad little sister. You know they fire jump at Beltane.' His eyes were fixed on the front of the room and Theon didn't need to look to know he was watching the Healer, undoubtedly imagining jumping the fire with her.  
Arya perked up considerably at the idea that she'd be able to do something dangerous at the celebration and Theon chuckled softly. Then Jon leaned in to his side, breath warm at his ear as he whispered, 'Maybe you and me could jump the fire …' Theon turned his head to look at the other man, eyes widening slightly in surprise as he felt a curl of warmth flow through him at the thought. He smiled at Jon as he considered making such a public pledge with him.  
'Maybe we could,' he murmured back, and Jon leaned in for a kiss that was interrupted after a few moments as someone threw a napkin at them and told them to get a room. When they drew apart Jon's smile was soft and promised more. Theon couldn't help but return it, and he wondered when he'd turned into such a sap … and he wondered if he minded.

\---

They were both at the dance class the next afternoon. The dancing teacher was already present in the middle of the room, a short, slim man with his face painted in a black mask and feathers, which looked like glossy black crow feathers, in his black top hat and hanging down from the back in a shaggy trail.  
He looked like a warrior and Theon almost laughed out loud at the look of joy on Arya's face, when he said, 'My name is Syrio Forel and I am being your dancing master. From me you will learn that to dance is to duel. It is the cut and the thrust. It is swift and sudden but it is also smooth like water and as unexpected as death.' Theon heard a few nervous chuckles at that, but the dancing master did not seem perturbed, he merely scanned the crowd and then gestured. It was Arya who stepped forward, clearly the one who had been hanging avidly on his every word.  
'Come, child,' he beckoned. 'I will teach you to be a fire dancer.' He stood, balanced lightly on his toes, one hand held gracefully to the side. 'First, we bow.' He threw one of the two short sticks he held in his hand across to Arya who caught it easily with a grin. Then he flicked his wand and a rousing tune struck up out of nowhere. It was drums and pipes and the sawing of a violin. It had people immediately tapping their feet and nodding their heads around the room.  
'Now, we will begin the dance,' Syrio said, stepping in and raising his stick to Arya who echoed his movements with a _clack, clack, clack_. They moved slowly at first, feet stepping back and forth and around and around, before coming back into the middle for the sticks to _clack, clack, clack_ in time with the music. Theon could see the exact moment Arya grasped the routine and relaxed into it - he could see the moment that her years worth of training and physical conditioning let her understand the movements and the pattern behind them.

When she did, it was magic. She stepped the tempo up immediately, a savage grin on her face as she stepped and swirled and swung. Syrio met her without pause and soon the two of them were blurring around the room and it was almost more of a fight than a dance, yet they moved in complete synchronicity and somehow still held the beat of the music, which was now thrumming through the room. Theon could feel his blood rising at the sounds and the movement. He could see why this dance was danced. It was about life and renewal and passion and strength. It was thrilling and he tore his eyes away from the two of them for a moment to glance across at Jon and imagine dancing it with him.

At that moment, with a rousing cry, Syrio stopped the music, bringing them both to a halt before performing a bow with a grin. 'Very good, child,' he said to Arya, who beamed with happiness, not even short of breath.  
'Now,' he said, gesturing more broadly around the room, 'We will learn the movements - more slowly.' He grinned again at Arya, 'Please be finding a partner.'  
Jon reached for Theon's hand and Theon let himself be pulled into the group of students who had just scrambled onto the dance floor.  
They started slowly, as promised, stepping back and forth, out of each other's space and back in, lifting sticks to _clack, clack, clack_. Then they turned, circling new partners, repeating the same. People turned the wrong way, got each other's knuckles with the sticks and stood on toes, but it was an organised chaos. Syrio oversaw it all, moving between the students to correct and instruct, calling out the movements as he did, 'In, step step, right, step step, twist. And sticks.'

Theon felt his heart beat faster as he came face to face with grey eyes when he took another turn and stepped in close to Jon, who seemed to be picking up the steps a lot quicker than he was - damned Durmstrangs. Jon smiled at him, the black markings on his face framing his eyes in a jagged replica of Syrio's dark mask. It made him look handsome and dangerous in a way Theon hadn’t paid attention to in quite a while. Some of his interest must have showed in his face because Jon's gaze sharpened, and he was looking over his shoulder as the dance pushed them apart again, leaving them circling new partners. Every time he caught a glance of Jon for the rest of the class, the other man's eyes were on him, hot and intense.  
He barely had a moment to say goodbye to the others when the lesson finished before Jon had caught him by the hand and was pulling him from the room. Outside the door, the other man pulled him into a quick, hard kiss that had Theon arching up into him, before he broke away, tugging again, 'Can we go somewhere?' Jon asked, voice husky.

Theon nodded, feeling desire curl through him. He took the lead, pulling Jon down one the corridor and up a flight of stairs until they reached a room he knew wasn't being used this term. He pulled his wand to unlock the door and Jon crowded against his back, hands on Theon's hips, mouth hot on his neck. Theon gasped and tried to concentrate as he murmured, ' _Alohomora_ '. The door clicked open and Jon pushed him through it, kicking it shut behind him as he spun Theon around, claiming his mouth in a kiss and backing the both of them up until Theon felt his legs hit a desk. Jon didn't pause, boosting Theon up with his hands on his arse and moving between his now spread legs.  
'You,' he murmured, breaking away from Theon's mouth to press kisses into his jaw and down his neck, as his hands worked to untuck Theon's shirt and slip beneath it. 'Looked incredible.' He returned to Theon's mouth, kissing him again between words as one hand began working on the fastenings of his trousers. 'That music. Fuck. It made me want to -' He ground his hard length against Theon's leg as his hand slipped inside and he pulled Theon's cock out with a groan. 'And everyone else around you -' Abruptly Jon dropped to his knees, taking Theon's cock in his mouth in one hot slide. Theon cried out in surprise and pleasure, fisting his hands in Jon's curls. Jon moaned around him, a word that sounded suspiciously like _mine_ as he gripped Theon's hips, licking and sucking him, bringing him so close to the edge with the clear pleasure he was taking in it, but then he pulled back abruptly, looking up at Theon from his knees, cheeks faintly red as he said, 'I - there's something I want to …'

Theon nodded, he didn't even care what it was, want was throbbing through him. Jon reached out, and pulled Theon off the desk, then spun him around and pulled his pants further down his legs, pushing gently at his back until he leaned forward over the desk, arse exposed. He glanced over his shoulder to see Jon's face, painted with intense hunger and he shivered slightly, but Jon's touch was gentle, as he gripped Theon's arse and he was still on his knees which meant he … Theon gasped as he felt the first hot, wet stripe of Jon's tongue up his crack.  
Jon paused for just a second to rasp, 'Okay?' and for Theon to nod his head. Yes it was okay. It was more than -  
He groaned as Jon began licking him in earnest, tongue alternately hard and soft, dragging over his arse and licking at it, sucking and teasing. Jon's hands were still on his arse cheeks, spreading him wide, fingers digging in. Theon had collapsed against the desk, boneless, unable to stop himself from pushing back into Jon's mouth. He'd never - no one had ever - _Gods it felt good_. 

He only realised he was talking out loud when Jon groaned and paused for a moment, muttering with hot breath, 'I want to do everything Theon, you have no idea.'  
Theon whined at how wrecked Jon sounded and reached down to grasp his own cock, rock hard and leaking. Jon batted his hand away and replaced it with one of his own, pausing for a moment to lick a wet stripe up it before closing it around Theon's shaft. Theon was beyond caring if there was someone walking through the corridor as he cried out, trying to push back into Jon's mouth and forward into his fist at the same time. Jon sped up his movement and Theon was overwhelmed with the sensations. He could feel his release rising, his balls tightening as he lost himself in the feeling of Jon's hands on his body. Jon's moans and grunts of pleasure encouraged him and he gripped hard at the desk as Jon twirled his wrist _just right_ and then he was coming, crying out, gasping and panting with it as Jon gentled and slowed his movements, letting him ride it out. 

When he was done, he lay forward across the desk, head on his arms, trying to catch his breath. Jon bit lightly at his arse cheek and he twitched but didn't have the energy to do more. Jon covered the bite with a kiss and murmured, 'I love you, Theon Greyjoy. But I think half the castle just heard that, so we better get cleaned up and get out of here.'  
Theon groaned and pushed himself into a standing position, smiling slightly when he felt Jon's magic whisper over him, removing the worst of the stickiness. He pulled his pants back up and turned to see Jon, pushing his way to his feet and looking unaccountably shy.  
Theon glanced down to see the wet patch he was spelling away and he grinned, 'You liked that, then?'  
Jon grinned back, 'Almost as much as you, by the sounds of it.'  
Theon shoved his shoulder and then pulled him in for a kiss. 'These dancing classes are twice a week, you know … should I expect this kind of treatment after every one?'  
Jon deepened the kiss, 'You most certainly should,' he grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would recommend googling Morris Dancing / Beltane for an example of this dance. It's incredible!


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my freaking GOD you guys, this chapter has been a long time coming, not just for the fact that it's been over a month since I posted last (this one is double my normal size - forgive me?) but also the fact that the content has been a *very* long time coming.
> 
> This chapter is most of all for @owlsinathens / @theonsfavouritetoy, who is the reason this story exists. She was talking shit with me about it initially, got me into the Greysnow ship and is my constant cheer squad for this story and all of my writing. It is very much a labour of love and I'm so glad that I can deliver, at long last, on the hype.
> 
> xo

The grounds of Hogwarts were transformed for Beltane Eve. Theon felt the majesty - the almost primal nature of the scene before him - thrumming through his blood. For some reason he'd assumed the Ball would be in the Great Hall, but reflecting back on what he'd learned the last few weeks about the origins of Beltane in the magical community, it made perfect sense that they should be outside for this.  
He looked around the wide, grassy lawn in front of the Lake. There were unlit bonfires laid out in a massive circle. There were tables laden with food, to represent a bountiful harvest. Everywhere he looked there were flowers, a riot of new life. His eye caught on the hawthorn blossoms woven among them - hawthorn for love, fertility, the release of blocked energy and spiritual growth.  
It was approaching sunset; he could see the fiery orb dipping towards the mountains over the Lake. Most of the school was already gathered, moving and mingling among the unlit pyres, speaking in hushed voices, excitement radiating from them. Theon could feel the sense of expectation fizzing through him and he adjusted his robes nervously, smoothing down the front. He started when he felt someone come up behind him, wrapping their arms around him and burying their nose in his neck. Then he relaxed into Jon's embrace.  
'What took you so long?' he murmured.  
Jon nuzzled his neck a few moments longer, before saying, 'I had a few things I needed to get ready … before the Ball.'  
Theon looked over at him and arched an eyebrow, opening his mouth to ask more, but he was interrupted by a voice, booming out over the scene.

'Beltane honours Life,' the voice said, strong and certain and reverent. Theon looked around before spotting Syrio, of all people - their dancing master - standing atop a grassy hillock, his wand pointed at his throat. His face was painted in its traditional black mask and his glossy raven's feathers hung from his hat and quarterstaff. He'd woven a crown of hawthorn blossoms around his hat as well, adding a splash of life to his ragged black clothes.  
As Syrio continued to speak, Theon realised exactly why he'd been chosen. Everyone fell silent, turning as one to face him.  
'Beltane honours Life,' he repeated. 'It marks the peak of Spring and the beginning of Summer. Our ancestors believed that Earth's energies are at their strongest and most active during this time. All of life is bursting with potent fertility and at this point in the Wheel of the Year, potential becomes conception. Beltane is a brilliant moment in time to bring ideas, hopes and dreams into action. And to be having some fun.' His eyes twinkled as he said this.  
'This year, we are honouring the Champions who have been chosen to compete in a challenge that pushes life to its limits and forces creativity, innovation and striving for survival.' He paused, looking out over the gathered crowd.  
'Beltane is a Fire Festival. Beltane means 'Bright Fire' and tonight we are lighting bonfires to honor the Sun and to encourage the Sun's light to nurture the emerging future harvest and protect us all.' He gestured to where Jon and Theon were standing and then made a gesture to his left. Theon looked over to see Daenerys standing at the edge of the crowd, resplendent in flowing silver robes that cascaded off her shoulders and trailed on the ground behind her. His eyes widened as he took in the sleek black dragon standing at her side. It was the size of a small pony and her fingers rubbed lightly over its scaled head as it looked around with narrowed eyes.

The three of them stepped forward, as planned. Theon eyed Jon from the corner of his eye and felt a thrill shiver through him to realise Jon had swapped his more casual every day clothes for his combat clothes. He wore his sleeveless leather jerkin, edged in twisting sliver designs. His powerfully muscled arms were on full display and the jerkin hugged his body, emphasizing his broad chest and toned stomach. Jon seemed to sense his regard and glanced across, meeting Theon's eyes. What he saw in them made his tattoos spark in interest, swirling across his skin as Jon's eyes heated and his lips quirked into a smile.  
Theon swallowed dryly.

Then they stood in front of Syrio and he looked down on them with a smile as he spoke again.  
'You are the three Champions chosen to honor the Sun.' Theon spared a moment to be grateful that as this wasn't part of the official Tournament, Bolton hadn’t been brought back to the school to participate. Then he let the thought go as Syrio continued.  
'Through you, we will be renewed, purified, blessed and cleansed.' He gestured out to the glowing orb that was just slipping below the edge of the mountains, the last of the light stealing from the sky.  
'As the Sun leaves the sky, we will light the Bright Fire.'  
Then he motioned to three of the four bonfires, took his wand from his throat and stepped down from the rise he was on, making his way to the pile of wood closest to him.

Theon moved over to the one he'd been assigned to, and tried to ignore the fact that the eyes of the whole school were on him, and he'd never been particularly good at fire -  
' _Incendio_ ,' came Syrio's voice from behind him, loud and strong. Theon felt a flare of heat as the fire roared into life. There was a hushed murmur from the crowd, then another strong voice, off to his left.  
' _Dracarys_ ,' came Daenerys' command, and he felt another burst of heat. There was a murmur of shocked gasps from around the clearing as the onlookers witnessed the dragon fire.  
' _Incendio_ ,' Jon said, every inch the Durmstrang Champion. Fire roared to life again.  
Theon looked at the pile of wood in front of him. He imagined calling the sun, imagined bringing forth twisting, greedy life. He imagined passion and anger and love and need.  
' _Incendio_ ,' he demanded. And the heat rushed forth from him, flaring to life in the wood, burning hot and high.  
Theon smile and there was a cheer from the gathered watchers as the ceremony was completed.

Syrio returned to the hilltop, now bathed in the glow of the twisting flames. He leaned down to pick up the dancing sticks and then returned his wand to his throat.  
'And now we dance to celebrate life.'  
At his words, a drum beat tolled, heavy and strong. It echoed out across the clearing. _Boom. Boom. BoomBoomBoom._  
Then the jingle of bells and tambourines started up in counterpoint to it. _Boom. Clang. Boom. Clang. Boom. ClangClang._  
Theon moved into position, looking across the small square made up of himself, Jon, Daenerys and her chosen partner, Drogo. Drogo was shirtless, dressed just in leather pants and calf-height boots. He had blue streaks painted across his chest and eyes that reminded Theon of some of the Pictish designs they'd studied. He looked powerful and hot as all get out. Theon eyed Daenerys with a smile. She had her eyes glued to the man opposite her. He glanced across to see the small dragon curling up at the edge of the fire it had created, head on its claws as it watched its mistress unblinkingly.  
The teachers had tried to argue that as Champions, Jon and Theon each needed to bring a partner, but Jon had emphatically stated that if he wasn't going with Theon, he wasn't going at all. So here the four of them stood, within the circle of the four fires. Everyone else was standing outside the blazing piles, ringing them in a huge, watchful circle.

The sawing of the violin started up next and Theon looked into Jon's dark eyes as they began to move in time with it. _Step. Step. StepStep. Jump_ They moved into the middle as four and then back out, Theon's eyes not leaving Jon's. They circled around each other, then the tempo changed and each of them reached out a hand, using a wordless _Accio_ to call a stick to themselves. The dancing staves smacked into each of their palms simultaneously and they twirled as one to clack them together in time with the building music. _Clack. Clack. ClackClackClack._  
Theon felt the music, the atmosphere, Jon's intensity, running through him, and he let himself forget about the complex footwork as he moved with the sound. The four of them circled and spun and clacked their staves together as they turned around each other. The tempo got faster and faster and Theon felt the energy of the dance filling him. He felt the glow of the fires radiating through him and he looked into Jon's eyes and saw happiness and laughter. He grinned at Jon, a bright, almost painfully happy, grin.

Then the music came to a crescendo and there was a great shout from the crowd - a yell of life and power and happiness. At that sound, a stream of bodies made their way onto the grassy clearing inside the fires. Suddenly there were figures whirling and stomping and sticks cracking together all around them. The clearing was full of movement and power.  
Theon caught glimpses of robes, brightly colored dresses, ribbons whirling in the night air and flowers woven into hair and clothes. It was a riot of noise and color and life. It was perfect. He saw familiar faces come and go - Gendry and Pod circling each other, Tormund dancing with that dragon handler from so long ago, Robb and the healer, not dancing together but watching each other through the swirl of movement.

He didn't know how long they danced, but eventually Jon pulled him from the crowd, hand warm in his. They got a drink together and watched the crowd, standing companionably close, Theon relaxing into the arm Jon held loosely around him.  
Theon looked across at Jon to point out the flip he'd just seen Arya do, only to see the other man already looking at him, tattoos spiking in agitation.  
'What's wrong?' he asked, seeing Jon's whole body was tense.  
Jon's eyes opened in surprise. 'Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted - that is …' He trailed off, biting his lip and dropping his eyes.  
'What,' Theon asked, Jon's words doing nothing to alleviate his sudden anxiety. He looked around, trying to see if something - or someone - had changed Jon's mood so suddenly.  
'No, Theon, it's - I'm doing this all wrong. Sorry. I practiced this in my head but it's just now -'

Theon felt his heartbeat spike, but the next words out of Jon's mouth were the opposite to what he'd expected. Jon took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, taking Theon's hands in his.  
'Theon Greyjoy,' he said, the firelight flickering across his face as he looked Theon in the eyes. 'Will you jump the fire with me?'  
Theon stared at him, mind racing. He opened his mouth, then stopped and licked his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse.  
'You mean -'  
Jon nodded. 'A promise. Will you jump the fire with me and promise me a year and a day?'  
Theon could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes that Jon - Jon Snow - wanted to promise with him. Wanted them to have a life together beyond this - beyond school - and wanted to make sure everyone knew it.  
He nodded. He nodded and then pulled Jon in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft and wet, as they laughed into each others mouths. Theon swiped an arm roughly across his eyes and cleared his throat as they pulled apart. He saw Jon do the same, and then Jon pulled him back in for another quick kiss.

'When?' Theon asked as they parted. 'Now?'  
'If you want to?' Jon said, looking uncertain again. 'We don't have to, I mean -'  
Theon cut him off as he pulled him towards the nearest fire - the one he'd lit. The flames still burned high into the sky and Theon eyed it, some of his enthusiasm bleeding off.  
'How do we actually jump it?' he asked.  
Jon laughed, taking his hand. 'You're a wizard aren’t you? You lit the fire, so just supress it. I'll give us the push.'  
Theon looked askance at him, 'Did I ever tell you, you're mad?'  
Jon grinned and his eyes were bright, with a hint of wildness glinting in them. 'Only when it comes to you,' he said, gripping Theon's hand tighter. Theon grinned back and they burst into movement at the same time, sprinting for the fire.

Theon shot out his hand, forcing the flames to do his will, forcing them closer to the ground, at the same time he felt as though Jon was supporting him, lifting him up. They pushed off the ground simultaneously, hands still clasped as they soared over the flames, landing a heartbeat later in a crouch on the other side. Theon felt the flames roar back into life behind him and it took him a moment before he stood, adrenaline thundering through him. He turned to Jon, whose face was alight with wonder.  
Then they were kissing again, as Jon pulled him close and claimed his mouth. Theon lost himself in the feel of the man against him, and it was a long moment before he heard the clapping and cheering around them. They broke apart slowly and Theon looked around to see that a number of the students and some of the teachers were standing around them. He flushed a deep red, but then Syrio approached them, dancing stick held out towards the blaze.  
He flicked it and two strands of fire emerged, swirling like snakes through the air. They came closer and closer, thickening and solidifying as they twined with each other. Theon watched the white hot glow cool to a dull red and then a gleaming gold. Syrio stepped closer and held his palm out. The strands continued to entwine and glow until, coiled neatly in his hand were two hard, cold, plaited bracelets, which seemed to be made of pure gold.

There was a murmur in the group around him as Syrio looked up at the two of them, holding his hand out.  
'Come, children,' he urged softly. 'You have pledged to each other. Take the symbol of that pledge and wear it with love.'  
Theon stepped forward and reached for one of the golden bands. It was the larger of the two and he held it loosely, as Jon reached for the other. As his hand touched it, both of them glowed brightly a moment and Theon felt as though something of himself had passed into the metal in his hand.  
His eyes opened wide as he turned to Jon, who looked to have experienced the same sensation. 

He reached for Jon's hand and slipped the bracelet over his wrist, where it glowed brightly again, and then faded, sitting comfortably against his skin.  
'A year and a day,' Jon murmured, eyes warm.  
He reached for Theon's hand and slipped the bracelet over it. As it settled into place it glowed, and Theon suddenly felt safe and protected. Loved. He felt as though Jon was all around him. The feeling was incredible.  
'A year and a day,' he whispered in return.

They kissed softly, sweetly, Theon marvelling at the connection he felt to Jon. A moment later, people were all around them, congratulating them, asking the what had happened, wanting to see the bands.  
It was too much. Theon couldn't take it in. He just wanted to be with Jon. To be alone and to let what had just happened sink in.

'Leave them be!' Robb shouted, pushing everyone back with a wink over his shoulder. 'Gods, anyone would think you'd never seen two people in love before. Come on, move along. This is a party.'  
Jon smiled at his brother and then leaned in close to whisper in Theon's ear.  
'I've had enough of other people for tonight. Come with me?'  
Theon was nodding and moving before he even had a chance to consider it.

\------

Theon followed Jon out into the night, their path lit only by the glow of the moon as they headed back towards the castle, hand in hand. But when it came time to turn up the path to the main entrance, Jon tugged his hand instead, leading him off to the left - towards the Forbidden Forest.  
'Where are we going?' Theon asked, as he followed.  
Jon looked back over his shoulder, 'Trust me?'  
Theon nodded and they continued. Inside the trees it was darker and Jon pulled out his wand, leading them unhesitatingly through the forest. They took a path Theon had never been on before, and as they moved the terrain got rockier, the trees opening up.  
Eventually they stopped before a large, dark opening. Theon looked into the mouth of the cave and then back at Jon, doubt written all over his face.

Jon grinned and whispered _'Meridiem'_. As he did, twinkling lights began to glow softly in the entrance of the cave. Theon could see them coming to life back into its recesses, lighting the way with a warm invitation.  
He turned to Jon and lifted an eyebrow. 'What've you got planned, Snow?'  
Jon's grin widened and he tugged Theon forward, 'Come inside and find out,' he said.  
As they moved further into the cave, Theon could feel the air become warmer, and then he heard the faint splashing of water, and smelled a hint of a flowery perfume.

They rounded the final corner and Theon stopped dead at the sight that greeted him. He looked around wide-eyed at the large, open pool with steam floating gently from the surface, at the clusters of candles placed in the nooks and shelves of the rock walls, at the strands of hawthorn and clumps of flowers clustered around the small, circular cavern.  
Finally, he looked at the blankets laid out beside the water. He turned back to Jon with a smirk. 'Why Snow, are you planning to take my maidenhead tonight?' he teased.  
To his surprise, Jon flushed a deep red and looked down at his feet, mumbling something unintelligible. Theon stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Jon's neck and leaning their foreheads together.  
'What was that, love?'  
Jon's grey eyes glanced up to meet his for an instant, then he looked away as he mumbled, 'I said … or you could take mine …'  
Theon felt his breath catch at that - at the thought that he could - that Jon would let him - he'd never … Then he bent his head, catching Jon's mouth in a fast, hard kiss that was full of the power and energy and magic of the night.

Jon moved with him, responded instantly, hands pulling at Theon's robes, almost urgently. Theon groaned and pulled him closer, revelling in the heat and the hard strength of Jon's body against his. Jon's hands were on his skin, feverish and shaking. It was the shaking that pulled Theon out of his daze. He slowed his movements immediately, gentled them.  
Jon made a noise of frustration and Theon shushed him with a smile, another kiss.  
'We have all night,' he murmured. 'I don't want to rush this.'  
Jon looked at him, mouth reddened from kissing already and Theon was almost tempted to just slide them both to the ground and complete what they'd been dancing around for months. But there was just a hint of uncertainty in Jon's eyes, and that was enough.

Theon smiled and brought his hands up to Jon's leather jerkin, awkward on the ties with his missing fingers. Jon raised his hands to help but Theon pushed him away with a kiss.  
'I want to,' he said, as he managed to get the first one undone, exposing the column of Jon's throat and the dip of his collarbones. Theon leaned in, placing a kiss against Jon's neck as his hands dropped to the next tie. Jon's hands came up to Theon's hips, but he didn't demand movement. He seemed content to just hold them there, to let Theon's presence steady him.  
Theon got another tie undone and moved his mouth lower, kissing and sucking along Jon's collarbone to the top of his chest. Jon tilted his head to one side and when Theon glanced up, he saw Jon's eyes were closed and he had a faint smile on his face.

Another tie came open and Theon licked and nipped his way to Jon's nipple. Above him, Jon's breath hissed out and his hands tightened on Theon's hips. Theon stayed there, nipping and licking and teasing as he undid the next tie, and the next. Then he chased one of the sluggishly moving black bands of tattoo across Jon's chest until he reached the other nipple. He repeated the attention as his fingers worked against the rest of the ties. Jon's breaths were coming slightly faster now and his fingers spasmed against Theon's hips every time his teeth closed over the sensitive skin.

When he had them all undone, Theon straightened, looking into Jon's face until he opened his eyes, pupils blown wide, and met Theon's gaze. Then he leaned in to kiss Jon as he slid the leather jerkin off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.  
Jon's look was dazed, but his eyes sharpened after a moment and he looked Theon up and down. 'Do I get to do the same to you?' He asked, eyebrows raised.  
Theon smiled and held his arms wide. Jon's hands immediately went to the clasp at the neck of Theon's dress robes and he unhooked it, sliding the black velvet off Theon's shoulders and letting it pool to the ground. Then he started at the buttons of the deep blue shirt Theon wore underneath. With a wicked grin at Theon, Jon leaned in to nuzzle at his neck as he did so, before licking a stripe up his skin and then kissing his way hotly back down. Theon laid his head to the side, feeling himself hardening further as Jon lavished attention on him. He groaned softly as teeth scraped at his skin and then Jon bit gently down. A moment later, Jon was pushing the shirt from his shoulders and then they were standing chest to chest.

Their hands tangled as their both reached for the others' pants at the same time and they laughed, kissing again as Theon batted Jon's hands away and undid his, sinking to his knees as he pulled them down Jon's thighs, freeing his hard cock. He wasted no time gripping it in a firm fist and licking a wet strip up it, swirling his tongue across the head in the way he knew drove Jon wild. Jon grunted above him and buried his hands in Theon's hair, gripping him just hard enough to guide his mouth back to the tip of Jon's cock.  
Theon paused a moment, pumping his hand slowly up and down Jon's shaft as he looked up and said innocently, 'Do you want me to suck you?'  
Jon groaned again and closed his eyes, nodding. Theon licked at the head of Jon's cock again, breathing over it and making him shudder, his hands tightening in Theon's hair.  
'How much do you want me to?' he asked, smirking up at Jon who was biting his lip, in what Theon knew was an attempt to stop himself from thrusting forward and burying himself in Theon's mouth. Theon gave his cock another lazy pump and Jon whimpered.  
'A - a lot. Please, Theon. Please s-suck me.'  
His cheeks reddened again and Theon marvelled that despite all they'd done, Jon was still so innocent in some ways. The twitch of his own cock in response to Jon's reaction reminded him of just how much he loved that side of the man. He didn't waste anymore time, opening his mouth and taking Jon in as deep as he could, until he could feel Jon's cock hitting the back of his throat. Jon cried out at the sensation and Theon sucked back, hollowing his cheeks as he increased the pressure.

He set up a steady pace, one hand rubbing up and down Jon's thick shaft, the other two fingers coming up to tease and rub at his balls. Jon shifted, trying to widen his stance and give Theon more access, but with his pants mid-thigh, he couldn't. He growled in frustration.  
'Theon - wait - give me a sec-' he gasped, as he tried to toe one of his boots off, while leaning on Theon for support. Theon just shook his head and hummed.  
'Fuuuuuck,' Jon groaned. 'Damnit, Theon, just let me get my pants -'  
Theon picked up the pace, stroking harder and faster. Jon gave up on his pants and returned his hands to Theon's hair, seemingly unable to stop himself from thrusting lightly in time with Theon's movements. He encouraged it, humming again, groaning against Jon's cock as it slid in and out of his mouth, heavy and hard.  
He sucked back, relaxing, so that when Jon's cock hit the back of his throat over and over again, he could take it.  
'Fuck, Theon. Fuck. Ah - ah - ah,' Jon panted, hips working harder and faster as he began to fuck Theon's face in earnest.  
'Fuck. Theon. So good. So - Gods. _Theon_ ,' Jon cried out as he stiffened, his release spilling into Theon's mouth, hot and salty.

He thrust once or twice more and Theon gentled the suction, working him through it as he looked down at Theon with dazed, adoring eyes.  
He took one hand out of Theon's hair and ran it along his chin and along the corner of his mouth. Theon let Jon's cock slip from his mouth and Jon wiped his thumb across Theon's lips, bringing it up to his own mouth and sucking it in.  
Theon groaned and Jon stepped back, kicking his boots off and dropping his pants completely with a mock glare at Theon. Then he turned and stepped down into the steaming water beside them. Theon watched unashamedly as the muscles of his back and arse moved as he walked.  
The water came up to his hips, but he sank lower, letting out a sigh as it covered his chest and shoulders and he swam the few paces over to the far edge of the pool.

Theon climbed to his feet and unlaced his own boots, removing them and moving his hands to the fastenings of his trousers.  
'How did you find this place?' He asked Jon, who was leaning back with his arms resting on a stone ledge and his eyes watching Theon with interest.  
'I didn't,' Jon replied, gaze tracking Theon's hands as he unzipped his fly and eased his pants down.  
'Ghost did, when I was out here training one day.' The brief flash of sadness over the wolf who had been sent so far away was banished as Theon kicked his trousers off and stood only in his tight, black boxers, his erection clearly straining against them.  
Jon licked his lips and Theon slid them down, slowly. Teasingly.

When his cock sprang free, Theon gripped it, rubbing up and down it once. He groaned at the sensation and then forced himself to let it go and he stepped forward into the water as well. It was hot - hotter than he'd expected and he welcomed the way it took the edge off his need. He wanted to make this good for Jon. He sank down into the water as well and floated across to where Jon was relaxing. He slid in between his legs and kissed him slowly, deeply. He knew Jon could taste himself - and knew a part of him got off knowing his taste was inside Theon's mouth.

They kissed lazily, Theon's hands either side of Jon's hips in the water as he floated easily, just their upper bodies touching. Theon felt like they had all the time in the world, as he explored Jon's mouth - as he nibbled and sucked and mapped his way over the familiar space. Jon brought his hands up to Theon's hips and pulled him gently forward until he was sitting in Jon's lap. Theon repositioned himself so his arms were around Jon's shoulders as they continued to kiss.  
Theon could feel faint stirrings from Jon's cock against his arse and he slid his hips forward, letting his own aching hardness rub against Jon's stomach. He groaned at the slippery friction and Jon's hands slid from his thighs to his arse, pulling him closer.

They sat together in the hot water, moving and sighing and moaning against each other as they took their time to touch and taste. Theon's desire was still there, but it was a simmering burn, rather than an overwhelming need. Eventually, he could feel Jon's hardness beneath him more fully, as Jon started tilting his hips and pulling Theon down on to him harder.  
Theon leaned forward, so that his mouth was right beside Jon's ear, and then he whispered huskily. 'You've got two options, love. Either we can rub against each other until we come … or you can go over to the edge of the pool and I can lick you open and make you ready for me.'  
Jon's breath caught and Theon pulled back to see his eyes were wide and dark with want. Jon kissed him once, hard, and then tilted him backwards until he overbalanced and splashed down under the water with an undignified squawk.

Theon came up spluttering and pushing hair and water off his face to see Jon already out of the pool, laying back on his elbows on the blankets and looking at him with undisguised humour.  
'You'll pay for that, Snow,' Theon growled in mock annoyance.  
Jon kept his eyes on Theon as he let his legs drop apart. He smirked as he watched Theon's eyes move to his cock and he reached down to rub a finger lightly over his hole.  
Theon groaned and strode across the pool, pulling himself out of the water, taking barely a moment to wipe the water from himself before he dropped to his knees and nosed his way between Jon's legs. He licked a stripe, hot and wet, over Jon's arse and Jon moaned, tilting his head back and letting his hand drop away.  
Theon nudged his legs further apart and licked again, a flat, broad stroke. And again. Above him he could hear Jon's breath beginning to come faster. He slowed down and began teasing Jon with lighter stokes. Jon whimpered and Theon pushed his tongue against Jon's hole, pulling back just as Jon began to push against him. Jon growled lightly and Theon nipped him on the side of the leg.  
'I said you'd pay,' he murmured, laughter in his voice.  
'I'm sorry,' Jon gasped as Theon licked him again. 'I'm sorry. Theon, please.'

'Please, what?' Theon asked as he sucked one of his fingers into his mouth and then pressed it against Jon, breaching him slightly.  
'That,' Jon hissed. 'Please, Theon.'  
Theon chucked lowly and pushed his finger in slowly, bending his head to lick and suck around it as he did so. Jon cried out above him and Theon began moving his finger in and out, sucking and licking at Jon's sensitive skin. He crooked his finger, grazing over the sensitive spot he knew was inside, working at it slowly.  
'Gods, Theon,' Jon moaned, pulling his knees up to give Theon better access. He felt his own cock jerk in response to the picture of Jon spreading himself, opening himself, for Theon.

'Did you bring any lube?' Theon asked as he teased at Jon's rim with a second finger.  
Jon reached out for his clothes then muttered a frustrated _'Accio'_ when he couldn't reach. The small vial flew into his hand and he passed it down to Theon. Theon felt heat rush through him at the look on Jon's face when their eyes met. Jon looked _gone_. His lip was red from being bitten and his hair was still damp from the water. His gaze was heavy and dark and his tattoos were moving sensuously around his eyes.  
Theon paused for a moment, fingers on the cap of the vial.  
'I love you,' he said, looking up into Jon's eyes.  
Jon's lips quirked into a smile. 'I love you, too.'

Theon placed a quick kiss on Jon's inner thigh and then uncapped the vial, pouring some of the slippery liquid over his fingers. He rubbed them together and then slid two inside Jon in a smooth, slow movement. Jon moaned at the feeling and Theon crooked them, moving them faster as he rubbed over the spot that soon had Jon panting and crying out.  
Theon reached up with his bad hand to grasp Jon's hard and leaking cock but Jon moved a hand down to stop him.  
'Don't,' he said hoarsely. 'You'll make me come. I - I want you to -' He didn't finish, but his eyes flicked down Theon's body. Theon pulled his fingers out and pushed to his knees, kneeling between Jon's legs and looking down at him. Jon's eyes dropped to Theon's cock, clearly ready.

'You sure?' Theon asked. 'We don't have to.'  
Jon nodded, licking his lips, and his eyes came up to meet Theon's.  
'I want to,' he said. 'I've wanted to for a while.' His face was open and not a hint of the hesitation from earlier marred it. Theon felt a rush of affection for the man spread out below him and he reached for the vial again. Jon's voice gave him pause.  
'You - do you want to? You don't have to. I - just assumed -'  
Theon leaned down, putting his hands beside Jon's head and pressing their bodies together. He kissed Jon, deep and sure, and then pulled back.  
'I want to,' he said huskily. 'I've never - it will be my first time. But I want to.'

Something in Jon's face softened at the confirmation that this would be Theon's first time. That Jon would get to share that first with him, and Theon felt happiness flow through him in response. He'd had so much taken from him. So much twisted and sullied. But this - this he could have with Jon and Jon alone.  
He pushed back onto his knees again and slicked his cock quickly, then moved between Jon's legs, rubbing it over his hole and pushing gently as he put an arm beside Jon's head. They both groaned at the pressure and Theon leaned down to meet Jon's lips as he pushed forward again.  
He pressed inside slowly, hissing at the tightness - the heat. Below him, Jon gasped into his mouth and Theon paused.  
'Are you okay?' he murmured.  
Jon nodded, eyes still closed, and his hands moved to Theon's arse, pushing him forward, urging him deeper.  
Theon tilted his hips, sliding in until he was fully sheathed. He stopped then, dropping his head to Jon's shoulder and panting slightly.

'Are _you_ okay?' Jon asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.  
'Shut up,' Theon mumbled, moving his hips slightly. They both groaned at the sensation.  
Then Theon shifted slightly so he had a bit of leverage and pulled halfway out, sliding back in slowly as he captured Jon's mouth in a kiss. Their tongues twined around each other and Jon's hands were steady on Theon's hips, guiding him back in.  
They set up a slow and steady rhythm, neither wanting to go too fast - to make this reach its inevitable climax. Theon could feel it building already. Jon felt so good. So tight. So willing.  
Theon was _inside_ him. The thought was almost too much to comprehend. Jon had shown him so much trust. So much faith. So much love.

With a groan Theon pulled back again, sliding in harder. Deeper. Jon cried out and his hands gripped Theon's hips tighter, encouraging him into the same movement again and again. Theon braced his hands beside Jon's head as he pushed into him and Jon wrapped his legs around Theon's hips, pulling him closer. They kissed and bit at each others mouths, licking and panting as their steady rhythm got more and more out of control. Theon could feel his orgasm building.  
'Touch yourself,' he gasped at Jon.  
Jon's eyes met his, wide and startled, but then he dropped a hand to his cock, wrapping tightly around it and squeezing his eyes shut with the pleasure of it. He stripped it hard and fast, seemingly unable to help himself, and Theon drove into him in turn, chasing his release and trying to hold off on it simultaneously. He had to make this good for Jon. This was for Jon. He had to -  
'Fuck,' Jon cried out, clenching around Theon's cock as he came - hot white streaks painting both their chests. 'Fuck. Theon. Gods.'

Theon cried out as well, letting go of everything except the tension that was building inside him. He moved back to his knees and gripped Jon's hips as he looked down at him. He fucked into Jon, hard and deep as Jon watched him with dark, dreamy eyes. Jon was still pulling his cock, slowly, lazily, and the sight of him laid out like some bronzed God, still wet with his own come was almost too much.  
Theon bit his lip, focusing on the tight heat, the feeling of Jon around him, the sight of his body under him.  
'Theon,' Jon said softly, and Theon's eyes darted up to meet his.  
'I want you to come in me, Theon,' he said, voice low and raspy.

The words - the wanton expression on Jon's face - tipped him over the edge. One more stroke - two - and he was coming, driving forward into Jon with a shuddering cry. He collapsed forward on to him as his orgasm ripped through him. Jon's arms came up around him, holding him as the waves of pleasure rocked through him.

They lay like that for a long moment and then Theon rolled slightly to the side and Jon whispered a quick cleaning charm, which tingled over Theon's skin. Then he reached for a blanket, pulling it over the both of them. He pressed a kiss to Theon's forehead and tightened his arm around his shoulders.  
They lay, twined together, the only sound in the cave the panting of their breath and the soft bubbling of the water in the pool.

\------

Theon didn't know how long it was before he was woken by the feeling of hot breath against his cock and a hand running up and down his hardening shaft. The candles had guttered down, and most had gone out. The cavern was lit by a dim, flickering glow. He glanced down, to see Jon looking up at him with bright, heat-filled eyes.  
'Hey, you,' he said, voice gravelly.  
'Hey,' Jon said in return, dropping a hand to Theon's balls, to rub lightly against them. Theon let his legs fall open as he enjoyed the soft touches of Jon's hands and mouth against his skin.  
'How are you feeling?' Theon asked, putting an arm behind his head and looking down at Jon, between his legs, half covered by the blanket.  
Jon smiled against his skin and licked lightly over the head of Theon's cock. Theon jumped slightly and Jon grinned.  
'Good,' he said. 'Little sore … but -' he shrugged, and licked again. 'Nothing that won't stop me from wanting to do that again.'

Theon quirked an eyebrow at him and then sighed as Jon took him into his mouth, sucking back. He could feel himself hardening under Jon's attention and he thought about sinking back into Jon's body. Thought about the positions they could try … wondered what Jon would like best. He'd always liked sitting on top - those few times he'd been allowed to …  
The thought made him wonder … if maybe … with Jon …

'What are you thinking?' Jon asked, pausing in his ministrations, and looking up, eyes concerned.  
Theon pulled his wandering thoughts back in and looked down at Jon, mustering a reassuring smile. He thought back to earlier in the night - Jon's trust and openness. He thought about the thick weight of the golden band around his wrist and the promise it signified. He thought about how Jon had never, once, done anything to hurt him.  
And he realised his decision was already made.

'I want you to fuck me,' he said, and watched Jon's eyes blow wide and his breath catch at the words.  
Jon opened his mouth to speak and then seemed lost for words. 'Are - are you sure, Theon?' he asked finally. 'You don't have to - just because I did. I loved what we did. I'd be happy to do that - forever really.'  
Theon shook his head and reached down to run his fingers through Jon's dark curls.  
'I want you to,' he said. 'I - I want you to make me feel good. To give me good memories of what this can be like.'  
Jon's face creased in concern and he leaned his face into Theon's touch.  
'What if I can't?' he whispered. 'What if I hurt you?'

Theon surprised Jon - surprised himself - by laughing.  
'If you hurt me, it will be an accident, and you'll spend the rest of the night looking at me like a kicked puppy.' He smiled. 'You have no idea how much difference that makes.'  
Jon's face took on such a look of burning intensity that Theon felt his mouth go dry. Then he moved up Theon's body to capture his mouth in a kiss that was both sweet and full of promise.  
'I'll make it so good for you,' he murmured against Theon's mouth. He reached for the vial and spilled some of the slippery substance on to his fingers and then moved his hand down over Theon's cock, rubbing it slickly up and down until Theon was moving his hips with it, chasing more. Faster.  
And then he stopped and moved his hand lower, chuckling and nudging Theon's legs apart when he growled in frustration.  
His fingers were still slick when he traced them down over Theon's balls and between his legs. Theon relaxed into the sensation of Jon's sure touch moving over him. This was familiar. This they had done a dozen times already. He encouraged the pressure as Jon pushed a finger inside him, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of being breached, focusing on that, and centering himself in the moment.

Jon found his sensitive spot with ease and rubbed firmly over it, starting the flare of heat that Theon knew would consume him. He thought sometimes, that he could probably come from Jon's fingers alone.  
Theon hissed as Jon bent his head to his chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and then biting down gently on it. He tangled his hands in Jon's curls and moaned as Jon slid a second finger in beside the first.  
The combination of attention on his nipples and his prostate was sending pleasure spiraling through him. He could feel precome dribbling down his cock and he couldn't decide if he wanted Jon to stop what he was doing and give it some attention. 

Jon made the decision for him, raising his head and slowing his fingers.  
'Do you want to?' he whispered.  
Theon nodded, caught up in the spiral of sensations running through his body.  
Now Jon hesitated. 'How -? What's the best way?'  
Theon was about to tell him it didn't matter, but then a series of images flashed through his mind. Being held down. Restrained. Face first into the bed. Darkness. Pain. Degradation.  
He shuddered and pushed them all away. Refused to be dragged back into that place. He focussed on Jon. The clear grey of his eyes. The warmth of his body. The love on his face. He thought about what would be the best way. 

'You -' he cleared his throat. 'You lie down. I think if I'm on top ... it will be better.'  
Jon nodded and lay on his back without question.  
Theon pushed himself up and then put a leg over Jon so he was straddling him, facing him. Then he reached behind himself to hold Jon's cock, giving it a slow rub as he did so. Jon groaned at the friction and bit his lip, running his hands gently over Theon's thighs. 

Theon lifted himself up slightly and then lined Jon's cock up against his entrance, sinking back slowly. He pushed against the blunt pressure and hissed, pausing as Jon's cock breeched him. He sat there a moment, taking stock of the sensation, reminding himself he wanted this. He was in control. This was different.  
'Theon,' Jon said softly. Theon flicked his eyes across to meet Jon's. 'I love you. I'll love you whether we do this or not. You have nothing to prove to me.'

Theon nodded and then let himself relax, mustering up a smile.  
'Don't lie, Snow,' he teased, in a voice that only shook a little. 'You've been dying to get a piece of this arse.'  
With the words he let himself sink down further. Jon groaned at the movement and his fingers tightened on Theon's thighs.  
'Theon -' Jon began.  
' _Jon_ ,' Theon said in exactly the same tone, his smile broadening as he sat back on Jon's cock, taking it all the way.  
'Fuck,' Jon grunted, closing his eyes. 

'Fuck,' Theon echoed, adjusting to the feeling of Jon inside him - to the feeling of being full. Being stretched. He moved slightly, testing the sensation, and below him, Jon moaned and opened his eyes.  
Theon looked down at Jon and smiled at his expression. Jon's face was open - raw with feeling. Theon felt his confidence grow. He leaned forward, rising half off Jon's cock. Jon moaned again, fingers gripping Theon's thighs. Theon sank back down onto him and bit his lip at the feeling, the pleasure as Jon's cock rubbed over the spot he'd given so much attention to with his fingers earlier.  
'Gods, Theon,' Jon gasped. 'That feels fucking incredible. I - I don't know how long I'll be able to -'  
Theon didn't respond, except to move faster, sliding up and down on Jon's cock. He tilted his hips so that that sensitive place inside him was being rubbed with every stroke. He could feel his pleasure growing as they moved.

Almost as though he couldn't help himself, Jon began fucking up into him, hands on Theon's hips as he guided him back down. Theon moaned at the additional movement, the depth that Jon's thrusts created. He put his hands on Jon's chest, bracing himself as they moved and rocked together.  
'Theon,' Jon said urgently. 'Theon, I'm going to come.'  
Theon leaned down to kiss him and the movement caused a new burn of arousal to flare through him. He felt his own cock rub up against Jon's stomach and the friction of having it trapped between their bodies while Jon was hard in his arse had him moaning.  
His tongue entwined with Jon's as he simultaneously fucked himself on Jon's cock and then ground forward, seeking the release he could feel building.

Jon's thrusts became harder and faster and the movement sent jolts of pleasure through Theon's body. Jon was all around him - in him. All he could see, hear, feel, taste, was Jon. His senses - his being - narrowed down to the man beneath him, wrapped around him, and he felt his release rising like a wave.  
Then Jon cried out and stiffened, shuddering beneath him, as he panted into Theon's mouth. Theon could feel him pulsing deep within and he sat back up, Jon's cock still deep within him as he dropped his hand to his own cock and rubbed it hard and fast.

It was less than a minute before he felt the wave crest and he was coming, bracing himself on one arm and painting Jon's chest with white streaks. Jon's hands were on his cheeks, pulling his face down, and when they kissed, it was soft and sweet. Theon felt the last of his orgasm shiver through him and he rested his forehead against Jon's.

'You're amazing,' Jon whispered, looking up at him with a soft smile.  
'You're not so bad yourself,' Theon replied, leaning down to kiss him lightly again.  
Then he rolled off, wincing slightly as Jon's softening cock slipped from him.  
Jon cast the cleaning spell again, and then pulled Theon close, arranging them so they were wrapped around each other, snug under the blankets in the warm air of the cave. He cast _Nox_ and the last of the candles went out.  
'Love you,' Theon murmured into the darkness.  
'You too,' came Jon's mumbled reply, and the soft caress of his hand.  
Theon rested his head on Jon's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

At last, they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, WAS IT WORTH THE WAIT?!
> 
> lols. As always, would love your thoughts.
> 
> Two chapters to go!!! :O


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Challenge. At last!
> 
> Enjoy the maze :D

The remaining days to the final Challenge passed in a blur. Theon remembered thinking he had forever to prepare, and now, here he was, standing on the Quidditch field, with the blaring of the school brass band echoing strangely around the stands.  
He looked around himself, struggling to believe that this was it. The Final Challenge - the Triwizard Maze - towered overhead. The hedges that made up the maze were dark green - thick and prickly-looking. A strange fog drifted out of them, eddying along the ground in sluggish patterns. Theon frowned, wondering why in the name of the Gods they had to do this at night. Damned maze was creepy enough without it being dark too.

He looked to his right and Jon gave him a warm smile, his face set - ready. Theon envied him his calm. This was the sort of thing the Northerners excelled at - facing an unknown challenge, hand to hand combat, the thrill of the unknown.  
Theon just felt sick.   
Beyond Jon, he could see Daenerys. She was composed, staring coolly into the maze, as if challenging whatever was in there to come out and face her. Theon snorted to himself. She probably had her damned dragons circling the skies to warn her of what was inside.

Behind them ranged the school - a wall of sound as they chattered and squealed, the excitement almost at fever pitch after a year of build up. Theon tried his best to tune them out. And to tune out the judges on the podium, and the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports - Robert Baratheon - whose booming voice was going on and on about the history of the challenge and the advances in international magical cooperation it was leading to, and the background of the champions and -  
Theon twitched as a sharp pain flared in his thigh. He glared across to his left - to the final challenger in the competition.  
Bolton had been brought in that morning - specifically to compete. Theon had steered clear of any public space he might run into him - but he couldn't avoid him here, on the starting line.

He refused to rub his leg - at one time he'd had so many of Bolton's stinging jinxes in a row he'd lost the ability to feel them. He tried to channel that now.  
Bolton's face was fixed in a pleasant expression, but his eyes were cold and black - he looked like a shark - soulless and cruel. Theon held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated.  
'You're dead,' Bolton mouthed, that pleasant expression never leaving his face.  
'Fucking try me,' Theon said back, loud enough that Bolton heard him. Bolton's face twisted and he dropped all semblance of civility. He took a step toward Theon, raising his wand.   
Out of the corner of his eye Theon saw Jon turn and raise his wand in response.

In that moment, Robert Baratheon's voice boomed out over the cheers of the crowd and both Jon and Theon were pushed forward into the entry of the maze. Behind them the brass band started up their disjointed tune again. Theon glanced over his shoulder to see Bolton staring at him with a look that burned hot and angry. Theon turned and began to run.

Jon's footsteps pounded the earth beside him, and within a few moments, that was all Theon could hear. The maze had swallowed all the sound from the outside world - it was eerily silent, apart from the faint rustling of branches around them. There was no wind, and the back of Theon's neck prickled as he remembered watching the hedges merge together when the maze had been young. They'd both cast _Lumos_ and the only light was the glowing pools their wands provided.  
By unspoken agreement they stuck together, at every turn one of them using the _Point me_ spell to figure out which fork was leading them deeper into the heart of the maze. They jogged for minutes without seeing or hearing any sign of danger.   
Theon began to run his mind through the spells he'd spent the last month cramming and practicing over an over until he could do the majority of them non verbally.   
His mind flicked briefly to the Unforgivables, and he wondered - if Bolton really came at him - whether he'd be able to speak the words that would bring the green flash of death.

He was just beginning to relax slightly when they rounded the corner and skidded to a halt at the sight of the massive creature in the centre of a large circular clearing in the maze.  
'Get back,' Jon said urgently, grabbing Theon's arm, and turning back the way they'd come.  
Theon wasn't even surprised to see that the hedge behind them had already closed into an impenetrable barrier.  
'Fuck,' Jon muttered, as they turned as one to face the monstrosity that was blocking the only exit from the clearing.  
'It's an Ice Bear. They're super strong and super vicious. Resistant to most magic. We need to try and force it out of the way so we can get past it.'  
Jon glanced at Theon and his face was grave. 'If it comes at you, don't run. Hit it with as many stunners as you can but whatever you do, don't run.'

Theon nodded and they both moved forward. The Ice Bear came into terrifying detail the closer they got to it. It was easily two metres tall at the shoulders and its fur was an off white - thick, but patchy, as though it had fallen off in clumps. It moved jerkily, swinging its head towards them and roaring with a force that echoed through the maze.  
It fixed them with eyes that glowed a bright, electric blue.  
Theon swallowed and lifted his wand.  
'Something's wrong,' Jon said urgently, staring at the creature.

'Yeah, we're about to fight a massive monster that could bite us in half without a second thought. I think a lot of things are wrong,' Theon said.  
'No, the bear,' Jon said, not taking his eyes off it as it began to move towards them with footsteps that shook the ground. 'Something's wrong with the -'  
The bear broke into a lumbering run, roaring again. Jon shouted _'Stupefy'_ but the bear didn't even check its pace.  
Theon joined him and they both shot jets of red light at the animal. Theon saw a chunk of fur and skin blown off, but the bear didn't pause. Up closer, he could see holes in its face and stomach. The flesh underneath was grey and shrunken.

'It's dead,' Theon said quietly, then louder. 'Jon, it's fucking dead! It's an inferi or something.'  
Jon began firing random curses at it, backing up as he did so. Theon joined him, shouting, ' _Stupefy. Reducto. Crucio._ ' Nothing was working. Its progress was inexorable.  
It got closer and closer until Jon broke to the left running and shouting. 'Hey! Here! Over here!'  
The bear swivelled its head around, looking at Jon and then turning back to Theon, fixing him with its uncanny stare. Theon saw a flash of light as Jon hit it with another stunner and it turned to chase after him with a roar of fury.

As fast as Jon was running, it was gaining on him quickly. Theon cast spell after spell at its massive bulk, tearing chunks of hair and flesh off it, but not slowing its progress in the slightest.  
It look a swipe at Jon with yellowed claws and Theon cried out as he saw Jon duck and roll, coming back to his feet smoothly. The bear reared up onto its hind legs, until it towered above the hedges of the maze, easily five metres tall. It roared into the sky and then dropped back to the ground with a thump that knocked Theon to his knees and left Jon sprawled along the ground.

The bear took a swipe at Jon again and Theon pointed his wand, shouting _'Incendio_ ', desperate for any spell to work. The stream of fire left his wand and splashed across the bear's body in a wave of crackling heat. To his amazement, the fire didn't dissipate like every other spell had. It spread along the patchy white fur and the bear let out a sound that was more like a roar of pain than anger. It turned away from Jon and began to run full speed at Theon. He sent more fire at it, and could see Jon doing the same from behind the creature. Two thirds of its body was burning now.

Theon backed away as it got closer and closer. When it was just metres away, a raging, glowing, burning monstrosity, he turned and ran. A hole opened up in the hedge in front of him and without thinking, he darted into it. Branches rustled behind him, then he heard a massive thump as what must have been the body of the bear slammed into the hedge. Theon stood, breath heaving as he stared at the barrier of greenery, then the full impact of what he's just done hit him.  
'Jon!' he shouted, running up to the hedge. 'Jon, can you hear me?'  
There was no sound from beyond the hedge. Theon couldn't even hear the sounds of the massive Ice Bear anymore.  
'Fuck,' he said, quietly. Then louder as he kicked at the hedge, 'FUCK!'  
A vine within the hedge whipped out and tried to wrap itself around Theon's ankle. He backed away, eyeing it warily, and then held up his wand for a 'Point me'. He couldn't do more than go on. He hoped Jon would be okay. The bear had been slowing - faltering. Surely the fire would have killed it. He couldn't stand to think of the alternative.

Theon sighed and looked down at his wand. Then he began to walk again, senses on high alert. Every time he reached an intersection, he performed the compass spell. He hoped it was working. He had no idea where he was or whether he was travelling in the right direction. Every possible path looked the same.  
He'd taken fifteen turns, when he saw the Raven. It was perched on a branch that had grown from the hedge wall like a skeletal arm. Theon paused, wondering if he should continue on, or whether he should turn back and choose another path. He eyed the bird again and then stepped forward, deciding he'd probably be able to fight a bird off without too much difficulty, if it came to that.

He moved closer until he was a few paces away from the Raven's perch. It turned its head to look at him and Theon took an involuntary step back. Damned bird had three eyes.  
Theon hesitated, wondering whether to continue or turn back, when the bird spoke, its voice a cawing croak.  
'Goal is near. Fastest path through me.'  
Theon looked past it and then took a step forward.  
The Raven cawed loudly, and the sound was echoed a hundred times from the hedges above. Theon glanced up and swallowed heavily. He held up his lit wand and wished he hadn't, as he saw thousands of beady black eyes staring down at him.

'Riddle must be answered,' it cawed. 'Or blood must be paid.' Theon looked up at the birds in the darkness and then began backing away. He'd never been any good at riddles. He wasn't a bloody Ravenclaw.  
The Raven screeched and it was echoed by harsh cries and flapping wings above.  
'Riddle must be answered,' it repeated. 'Or blood must be paid.'  
Theon resolved that if he made it out of this alive he was going to dedicate his life to making sure the Triwizard Tournament was never, ever run again.

'Fine,' he said out loud. 'What's the riddle?'  
The Raven cocked its head to one side, fixing him with all three of its uncanny eyes, and then it began to speak.  
 _Not alive, but grows_  
 _No lungs, but needs air_  
 _No mouth, but water kills_  
 _Answer._

Theon looked up at the bird, mind blank.   
'How am I supposed to fucking -' he began, but cut off abruptly at the angry muttering and rustling of feathers from above him.  
'Okay,' he said, holding up his hands, 'Okay, let me think.'  
He wracked his brain, running creature after creature through his mind. Nothing fit. He tried to recall every beast he'd ever discussed with Davos. None of them were not alive and had no lungs. Maybe that Ice Bear he mused, glancing up at the birds above him. Too bad he couldn't just blast the birds with fire the way he had the -  
Suddenly it hit him. That was it!  
'Fire,' Theon said confidently, looking up at the bird. It stared down at him a moment longer, then abruptly launched from the branch, wings flapping darkly as it spiralled up into the sky. A second later, the air was full of the deafening noise of hundreds of wingbeats. Theon raised his wand, but the birds were flying up, not down.

Theon stood and watched them fly into the night sky, then he looked forward and moved deeper into the maze. He didn't see any other threats and so when he heard the scream split the night open, he broke into a run without thinking. He came around the corner hard to see Jon standing over Daenerys, who was writhing on the ground. His initial flood of relief was dulled as Jon said, ' _Crucio_ ' and Daenerys screamed again.  
'Jon!' Theon shouted. 'Jon what the fuck are you doing?'  
Jon turned slowly and the look on his face made Theon want to vomit.  
He'd seen what an _Imperius_ looked like. The image would haunt him forever. There was no hint of recognition in Jon's face as he looked at Theon, turning his back on Daenerys, who had passed out from the pain.

'Fight it, Jon,' Theon said. 'You have to fight it!'  
Jon's arm was jerky as he raised his wand, and Theon knew Jon wasn't going to be able to stop himself in time.  
' _Stupefy_ ,' he yelled, pain spearing through him as he watched Jon's face go blank and he slumped to the ground.  
Theon ran over immediately, smoothing his hands over Jon's body to make sure he was okay. His heart was beating strongly and he didn't seem to be hurt, beyond the stunner that had laid him out.  
'I'm so sorry,' Theon whispered, placing a kiss on Jon's forehead.

Then he stood and pointed his wand at each in turn, muttering ' _Incarcerous'_. He had no idea if Jon would be under the _Imperius_ when he woke up, and no idea what Daenerys might to if she thought Jon had attacked her and was now vulnerable. He looked down at the two bound figures, fury growing in him as he turned his thoughts to the man who'd done this to them.  
He pointed his wand in the air and sent up a fountain of red sparks, and then he turned and began to run.

Bolton was right in front of the Cup - as Theon had somehow known he would be. He never could miss a chance to put himself in the spotlight, especially if he could hurt others to do so.  
He was fighting a huge, hairy creature. Not fighting, Theon realised, as he got closer - torturing. He was torturing an Acromantula … while he waited for Theon to arrive. Theon looked at Bolton and felt his anger and hatred well up inside of him. He remembered every single horrible, degrading thing Bolton had ever done to him, and which Theon had seen him do to others. He remembered Jon and Daenerys moments earlier. He looked at the giant spider twitching and writhing on the ground as it emitted high pitched shrieks of agony. Bolton was a monster. He had to be stopped.

Theon raised his wand, pointing it directly at Bolton's back, and then said the words, ' _Avada Kedavra.'_  
The green light flashed from the end of Theon's wand. But something, some sixth sense of a predator had Bolton moving, spinning out of the way as Theon began to speak. Theon's blast hit the spider and its twitching stopped immediately.  
Theon didn't spare it a glance, his entire focus following Bolton, who had circled to his right and was watching him with a crooked grin.  
'Avada, pet? I didn't think you had it in you.'  
Theon ignored Bolton's words, sending a non verbal stunning spell at him, which Bolton deflected with a flick of his wand.

'Can't we talk, pet?' Bolton said, his face twisted into a mocking parody of affection.  
Theon sent _Sectum Sempra_ at him, followed by _Reducto_ and _Diffindo_. Bolton dodged or shielded against them all.  
'No?' he said as he moved. 'I guess you're right. Broken toys need to be disposed of, not fixed.'   
At that he started to cast his own spells and now Theon was defending frantically, shielding and blocking everything that came at him. Bolton had always been the better wizard. Theon moved as he dodged, working around to the left to get the body of the giant spider between him and Bolton. The Cup glowed brightly behind him, but neither of them paid any attention to it. 

'I'm going to take my time with you, pet,' Bolton said. Theon could hear his voice moving around the clearing and he shuffled around behind the spider - trying to keep it between himself and Bolton. 'I've had a long time to think about this moment. I was punished for being kicked out of school you know. Punished because of _you_.' Theon tried to tune him out - tried to focus on the proximity of the voice rather than the words.  
'Do you know how my father likes to punish people, Theon?' Bolton asked, continuing without waiting for a response. 'There's this wonderful curse called _Excorio_. And when you use it, you can peel the skin off someone, inch by inch. It's incredibly painful, of course. That's where I'm going to start with you -'

Theon leaned out from behind the spider and yelled, 'Expelliarmus.'  
Bolton's eyes widened in shock and then anger as his wand flew from his hand, into Theon's.  
He let out a cry of pure rage and ran full tilt at Theon. All Theon could think was that he couldn't let Bolton have his wand again, or he'd be dead. He wrenched back his arm and threw both wands, as hard as he could, up and beyond the hedge wall. A second later, Bolton slammed into him, with a force that knocked him off his feet. Bolton landed on top of him, heavy and angry. He pulled back immediately so he was straddling Theon and balled up his fist, sending it smashing into Theon's face. Theon saw stars for a moment before he began to move. He twisted and bucked in the way Arya had taught him was best to throw off an opponent. Bolton punched him in the face again and again, but Theon ignored the pain. He'd taken far worse.

His movements threw Bolton sideways and Theon scrambled to his feet, ignoring the blood dripping down his face. Bolton was up a moment later, rushing him again. Theon stepped to the side and got a punch in. This just seemed to enrage Bolton more. He swung hard into Theon's guts, driving the wind from him. Theon gritted his teeth and hit Bolton back, getting in one punch. Two.  
Every blow seemed to be spiralling Bolton's rage higher, as though he couldn't believe Theon _dared_ touch him.  
He hit Theon again, and again, sending pain flooding through his body. Theon refused to go down, refused to give into it. He wasn't getting in any blows now. Didn't have time to do more than absorb the impact and protect himself as best he could.

He knew Bolton wanted him to hit the ground. Knew he wanted Theon to admit defeat. To give in. To be the victim. He refused. He _fucking refused_.  
Bolton's blows started to go wide, hitting Theon's arms and shoulders. Theon smiled through the blood that was sheeting down from a cut above his eye.  
Bolton was getting tired. Theon could see it. He wasn't used to working with his hands. Theon had been training with Jon, Arya, Gendry and Robb for months now. On and off. For fun at first. And later in preparation.

He picked the moment. He picked the exact moment when Bolton swung back, opening himself up and he smashed his punch home, putting every single ounce of his rage and pain and hatred behind it. It hit Bolton right on the jaw, right on the sweet spot Gendry had spent so long showing him. He went down. He went down hard and Theon was on him a moment later.  
His fist smashed into Bolton's face with a satisfyingly sickening crunch. He brought it back and hammered it down again and again. He felt like something had been let loose inside himself, something dark and twisted that he needed to let out - let go of.

When he finished - when he pushed himself off Bolton and crawled to his feet - Bolton wasn't moving. Theon didn't check to see if he was breathing. He didn't care.  
He walked to the podium that held the glowing blue cup, picked it up, and felt the jerk of a hook behind his navel as a port key pulled him from the maze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second last chapter of what has been an epic story. I started writing this almost 12 months ago to the day and it's ended up being a full re-telling of the Goblet of Fire (and is only about 20K shy of the word count of the real one).
> 
> It's something I never thought I would be able to achieve and I'm so freaking proud of the fact that I have.
> 
> This chapter - like always - is for @theonsfavouritetoy. Theon finally fought back. And he fucking _won_
> 
> Last chapter will be the epilogue. As always I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter <3


	46. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, you guys. This is the end. Before you get to it, I just want to take a moment to reflect on the last 11 months and 29 days of my life in which I wrote over 165,000 words.
> 
> If you say I'm doing 1000 words an hour (peak performance, not counting angsting, editing and thinking), that's 165 hrs of writing. That's four weeks full time, non stop writing if I did it for a job. Crazy. 
> 
> There's no way I would have been able to sustain my energy, enthusiasm and love for this story without all of you. 
> 
> My number one thanks goes to Theonsfavouritetoy who got this story through messenger in dribbles over a year of me fluffing around and fitting it in where I could. She never complained (except when the sex was too slow in coming) and instead gave me so much fangirling, love and encouragement. I talk to you more than I talk to my family. Thank you so much for supporting me through this <3
> 
> To half_life, I know things are crazy for you, but I've loved all our discussions of Jon Snow's beautiful everything. Thanks so much for jumping into a crossover that was not quite your nerd area.
> 
> To everyone who has read, commented or kudosed, but particularly to: Mis_Shapes, Lady Dragon, erihan, lesbianmermaid, Kimiko_Suzumiya, Eowyn20, DreamOfValyria, TJ, Kavita, VagrantWriter, Verdicananarchist, PinkyPike, xxCAPXLOCKxx, Ironcladsphinx, MomiWolfie, Haleigh Collins  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for coming on this crazy journey with me. 
> 
> Much love

_One year later_

Theon took a sip of his drink and sighed as the ice cool liquid hit his throat. He leaned back in his seat and put his bare feet up beside the wheel, resting one foot casually on it to keep their heading. He watched Jon out on the prow, checking lines with a sure hand, as he moved across the deck of the yacht like he'd been born on one. He was tanned now, black hair tangled by the wind and the salt, and Theon thought he'd never looked more attractive in his life.

He took another sip of his drink, gaze lingering on Jon a moment longer, then took up his quill, compensating easily for the soft swell of the ocean under the boat.

_Hey Ash,_  
_Your tip was spot on. The Basilisk Isles may just be the most beautiful place on earth. It's taken us about five weeks to sail here. I think. I haven't been keeping track of the days. I know you could have got here in two … but that's not really the point of what we're doing, is it?_  
  
_Jon is happy. Happier than I've seen him all year maybe. I knew getting dropped from the team had been hard on him, but I don't think I really realised until now how much he'd been carrying it still. Damned Northerners wrapping up their pain inside that stoic manliness … not that I don't like the manliness. I think we've had sex on every surface of this yacht now … not that you want to know that. Or maybe you do. You perv._

_Anyway, Jon is happy. I think Bolton getting tried at last and sent to Azkaban helped with that too._

Theon put down his quill and stared out over the water, the sparkling brilliant blue and the vivid green of the islands in the distance not registering for the first time since they'd sailed into these waters a week ago. He thought back over the craziness of the last year - the furore that the end of the Triwizard Tournament had brought - Daenerys accusing Jon of using an Unforgivable on her. Theon's defence of Jon as being under the Imperius rejected and Bolton unable to testify until he came out of the coma the healers had put him into following his injuries during the final trial.

Theon let his eyes drift to Jon as he remembered the vicious articles Baelish had written for the _Prophet_. The Targaryens had eaten it up, opening a lawsuit against Jon's family and demanding the Ministry try him. Jon hadn't cared. Neither had his family. They knew the truth. Theon frowned as he remembered Jon's face when he came back from a meeting with his Quidditch coach about getting in shape for the next season. Jon had looked hollow. Numb.  
_Too much controversy_ , he'd said. Theon wanted to Apparate to St Mungo's and finish the job he'd started on Bolton.

But he hadn't. He'd just done his best to remind Jon that there were so many people who loved him and things he was amazing at. He smiled at the thought, and sent his quill scratching across the page again.

_Jon spotted a herd of Kelpie's playing in the waves the other morning. You should have seen his face. I think he wrote like three different letters to Davos about it. And we've had this Golden Snidget hanging around the ship for days. Jon swears he's not feeding it, but I think it's getting fatter. I think an Occamy is the next thing he's after. Any ideas? They have shells made of silver if that helps. Give me some tips and I'll see if I can find a nest for you and bring back some shells haha._

Theon stretched and let the sun soak into him, glorying in the warmth. He glanced across at the largest patch of shade on the deck and smiled to see Ghost stretched out in it, seeming content enough to watch the birds wheeling in the sky above them.

_The weather is stunning down here. I know you're sick of hearing me whinge about the cold, but bloody Drowned God Durmstrang was cold. If I ever, EVER, suggest going back up North for any reason, you need to have me sent to St Mungo's, okay? Gods, I don’t even know how I managed to survive seventh year, let alone pass it. Although the hot springs helped … a lot …_

Theon's eyes returned to Jon, who seemed to sense Theon was looking at him, and glanced across, his lips quirking into an easy smile, before he disappeared down the steps and into their living quarters.

Theon thought about the eight months he'd spent in the massive, craggy Castle that was Durmstrang Institute. In the end it had been an easy decision to go. Though things had changed at Hogwarts - Bolton was gone and Theon was newly lauded Champion … the friendships being offered to him were shallow and self-seeking. He supposed his father would have wanted him to climb the social ladder and start to make partnerships and alliances that could be used to bring the Greyjoy name back into power, but in Theon's mind, that was just one more reason to be shot of the lot of them.

Jon had wanted to go home - to be around his family and friends. Especially once he got the news about the team. And Theon couldn't think of a single reason not to join him. He fingered the heavy gold band around his wrist, remembering with a tingle of warmth the night he'd got it. The night he and Jon had pledged to each other.

The year and a day had arrived while they were on the ship, in the middle of the Summer Sea, with not a soul in sight. Theon hadn't been tracking the date, but Jon had. He remembered the serious look in Jon's eye and the words he'd spoken.

'Theon, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I wouldn't be _happy_ if it wasn't for you. Being in the air used to be the only time I felt happy, and free … but that started to change when I met you, and now,' he'd gestured over the water and laughed. 'I've never been more free in my life to do or be whatever I want.'  
He'd knelt before Theon. 'The only constant I want is you by my side. Forever and a day.'

Theon smiled again as he remembered his response. 'Well it’s a good thing that's what I want too, or the next few weeks until we reach land would be pretty bloody awkward.'  
Jon had laughed, and kissed him, and they'd spent the rest of the day in bed, letting the ocean drift them where it would.

Theon closed his eyes as he remembered the day and he wondered what Jon was doing down below. He picked up his quill and scribbled the rest of his letter down.

_We'll be heading to the Isle of Tears in the next few weeks. Maybe we'll see you there?_  
_Safe travels sis._  
_Boë_

He rolled up the parchment and scribbled his sister's name on it, and then looked up into the sails, whistling sharply. A squawk and a flap of wings and a brightly coloured bird flapped down onto his outstretched arm. Theon scratched it gently on the head and then awkwardly tied the letter to its leg.  
'I have no idea where she is this time,' he said. The bird cocked its head to one side and seemed to consider his words. 'But you found her last time. If it's too difficult, make sure you bite her when you get there. Right on the ear.'  
The bird squawked loudly and took off into the air, flapping into the bright blue sky. Theon watched it for a moment, then secured the wheel so it kept their current heading, and headed below as well.

He found Jon sitting on their bed, his journal on his lap as he scribbled notes and rough sketches. Theon watched him for a moment, caught by the look of peace on Jon's face. Then Jon spoke, without looking up.  
'Are you going to come over here, or are you just going to stare at me all day?'  
Theon snorted and stepped forward into the small space, climbing onto the bed and plucking Jon's book from his hands. He closed it carefully and put it to one side and then he climbed onto Jon's lap, straddling him.

Jon pulled him closer and tilted his face up to meet Theon's mouth. They kissed slowly, lazily. As though they had all the time in the world.

Theon's thoughts from earlier flicked through his mind. For the first time in his life, he had nothing - _nothing_ \- to worry about.

He smiled against Jon's lips as he deepened the kiss.

All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin  
> xx


End file.
